


Likely Unlikely, It's Never Impossible

by Hotaruxfirefly



Category: Political RPF - Canadian 21st c., Political RPF - France 21st c., Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Alliances, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkwardness, Canada, Comedy, Emmanuel is bae, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, France (Country), Gay, Italy, Misunderstandings, Multi, Political Alliances, Politics, Putin is possessive, Romantic Comedy, Russia, Sexual Tension, so is Justin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 12:28:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 40,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16832623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hotaruxfirefly/pseuds/Hotaruxfirefly
Summary: Emmanuel being a young, ambitious and revolutionary president causes great admiration on all sides. Especially Justin Trudeau is captivated by Emmanuel’s accomplishments, intelligence and charisma. They connect upon first meeting as they walk along the Sicilien coast.  Emmanuel also seems to find himself drawn to Justin. Sexual tension is in the air.





	1. G7 summit 2017

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not an expert on how summits such as the G7 are carried out. Forgive meh.  
> It's just an idea I had so I thought why not.  
> there are going to be more chapters, though the first chapter only takes place at the G7 summit.

G7 summit 2017

Time passed by unnoticed as Justin suddenly realized that he had completely spaced out. He glanced down at his watch, and composed himself. He straightened his suit and carefully studied Emmanuel as he approached. Wearing a suit in the Sicilien sun was torture, though Emmanuel seemed mostly unbothered by it. He reached out for Justin’s hand, and as their skin met; they quickly forgot about the press, and cameras blitzing. Perhaps caught by the moment, their gazes lingered just a moment too long. As expected the difference in height was noticeable.

They walked across he botanical garden-like area, with the press keeping a respectable distance.  
(Speaking French)  
“I’m delighted to congratulate you in person Mr. Macron; I’m looking forward to the even stronger relations between Canada and the French Republic,” Justin said, as their pace started to slacken while approaching a plateau overlooking the coastline. They got in perfect position for the cameras to get a good shot.  
“As do I,” Emmanuel started. “Europe is counting on its allies more than ever now that the US presidency consists of an orange.”  
Justin quickly covered his mouth to suppress a laugh, glancing at the reporters, though convinced their conversation couldn’t be picked up.  
“Hopefully that won’t be a problem,” Justin replied, gesturing for them to continue their stroll.

Time passed as they discussed politics, and occasionally admired their surroundings, before rejoining the rest of the world leaders. The group then moved on to a secluded spot, with an open bar and tables neatly set. The venue also included a scenic view. As the Sherpa’s, representatives and world leaders began to converse; Emmanuel saw the opportunity to get some fresh air. He stepped out on the balcony, heaving a sigh as he leaned against the railing. To his surprise Melania was standing just a few feet away from him; her arms resting on the very same railing. The wind was gently brushing against her features, as her chin was raised to the sun. He decided to approach, about to greet her in English, but before he could do that Melania started speaking  
(Speaking French)  
“Mr. Macron, I almost hadn’t realized you were here.”  
Her eyes were still closed, and her expression calm. Emmanuel suddenly recalled that yes Melania did indeed speak French.  
“I was just getting some fresh air,” He explained, as he took a few steps towards her. They stood there in silence for a few minutes, letting the wind swerve through their hair. Melania opened her eyes, steadying her posture, then returning to the other guests. The sound of her heels on the tiles faded, and it was silent yet again. Emmanuel started spacing out, forgetting his responsibilities, as the sun was burning against his suit.

Shattering the peace, a hand was laid on his shoulder, startling him. He quickly spun around to face whoever was there, but lost balance, and roughly crashed his back into the railing. The breath was knocked out of him, and he nearly fell over the edge. He felt a hand on his side and one on his hip, realizing it was Justin who had approached him from behind. Emmanuel regained momentum as Justin drew him closer, their hips suddenly pressed together.  
“I’m so sorry, I definitely didn’t mean to startle you,” Justin apologized, still having a firm grasp on Emmanuel’s body.  
They were frozen in that position for a few seconds, before Justin quickly stepped back, giving Emmanuel some space. He ran his hand through his hair, staring awkwardly at the ground.  
“Don’t worry, nothing happened,” Emmanuel replied, composing himself.  
“You weren’t inside so… by the way, President Trump mentioned that he was looking forward to speaking to you,” Justin mumbled, still avoiding eye contact.  
“I’ll go back inside then,” Emmanuel exclaimed, lingering for a while before heading back inside.

As soon as Emmanuel was gone, Justin immediately slapped his forehead. “Shit.”

Inside Trump was nowhere to be seen, despite the request to greet Emmanuel. Just before leaving to get some water Emmanuel spotted Trump out of the corner of his eye. Before he could say anything, Trump had already slipped out through the back door, unnoticed by security. Emmanuel cautiously followed him, until reaching a cherry tree, just across from the venue. Trump searched his pockets, before pulling up a phone.  
“What is it now honnie,” he said, in a flirtatious tone.  
Emmanuel dove behind a corner, knowing he had absolutely no right to eavesdrop, but couldn’t convince himself to ignore the matter.  
“Of course I brought her, she’s my wife,” Trump answered. “You’re being unreasonable.”  
Emmanuel grew more and more curious, as he knew Melania was still inside.  
“Trust me I’m gonna make it up to you, but I have to go back inside now.” The conversation went on until Trump had become impatient.  
“I’ll see you soon my sweet puttin,” he said, leaning against the tree. “Alright bye bye.”  
As soon as the call ended Emmanuel hurried back inside, not sure what to do with the information he had just discovered.

Justin was in the middle of a discussion with Angela Merkel when he noticed Melania sitting at the open bar, looking rather lost. He decided to wrap up the conversation with Merkel, and join Melania at the bar.  
“Mrs. Trump,” he started. “Are you enjoying the venue so far?”  
Melania raised an eyebrow, fidgeting with a lock of her hair.  
“Of course Mr. Trudeau, Donald is my top priority.”  
She didn’t look up but merely took another sip of rosé. He sat down beside her, contemplating what to say.  
“Of course,” he responded, in lack of other words. “You seem… perhaps a bit reserved.”  
She exaggerated a sigh, finally raising her head.  
“Excuse me for a second.” She said, hurrying away, before disappearing into the crowd. Before Justin could fully register what had just happened, Emmanuel sat down next to him, chugging water dramatically.  
“I think President Trump is having an affair,” Emmanuel said under his breath.  
“What?” Justin responded, obviously intrigued. Emmanuel swiftly scanned the room, making sure no one was listening.  
“I overheard him calling someone ‘honnie’ over the phone.”  
Justin gave him a disbelieving look, as he cleared his throat.  
“You do realize he has five children, right?”  
A confused expression appeared on Emmanuel’s face. He exclaimed, composing himself.  
“It’s just an odd way to address your child. I could have sworn he was flirting.”  
Justin let out a light chuckle.  
“Well you are talking about the man who said that if Ivanka wasn’t his daughter, perhaps he’d be dating her.”  
Emmanuel shivered by the thought of it, but since the conversation wasn’t any of his business; he decided to let it go.  
“I guess you’re right.”

Melania was yet again standing on the balcony choking back tears. But this time she couldn’t stop her lips from quivering, or drops from spilling out of her eyes. She suddenly heard footsteps nearing, and quickly wiped the tears from her eyes. Donald’s assistant Omarosa appeared from the slide-doors, instantly spotting Melania.  
“Mrs. Trump, I just spoke with your husband, but you weren’t inside,” she started. “I just briefed him on the changes of tomorrow’s schedule. I figured you’d want the briefing as well.”  
Melania didn’t respond, but simply stared into the ground, her back turned to Omarosa.  
“Did I catch you at an inconvenient moment?” She asked, taking a few steps forward. Melania didn’t say a word, but silent sobs could be heard. Unsure of what to do; Omarosa stood there frozen.  
“I… I’m sorry I interrupted.”  
Just after she had spun around, ready to head back inside, Melania abruptly turned, reaching out for her wrist.  
“W, wait,” she stuttered.  
Omarosa looked at her, and Melania let her arm fall back to her side, awkwardly chewing her lip. They neared each other slowly, until Omarosa wrapped her arms around Melania, who after a while relaxed into her embrace. They remained in that position for a few minutes, before letting go of each other.  
“I’d like that briefing now,” Melania said, with a slight smile.

…………………………………………

That evening 

After arriving at the hotel where most of the leaders would be staying, Justin studied his suite. When he got to the king sized bed, covered with fancy satin pillows; he emptied his entire bag onto the duvet. Loose papers, folders and random items covered the surface, and he brushed some of it to the side, leaving a clear spot for him to sit. He searched the refrigerator for a bottle of water, but realized that there was only alcoholic beverages inside, along with a few varieties of soda. After considering just picking something from the fridge, he decided to search the hallway for a vending machine with some form of water. 

After a short while he rounded a corner, nearly tackling someone at the very same second.  
“Justin?” The person said, sounding surprised.  
Justin realized he’d run into Emmanuel, and spotted a bottle of water in his hand.  
“Where did you find that?” Justin asked, completely forgetting what the hell had just happened.  
“I… uh,” Emmanuel stuttered. Only then Justin noticed Emmanuel’s white shirt revealing his fit frame, and impressive figure. He made an attempt not to stare, but failed miserably.  
“I’ll show you,” Emmanuel smiled, and stepped aside for Justin to walk beside him.  
“Uh… yeah, yes please do,” Justin stuttered, catching up with him. As they were walking down yet another hallway, Emmanuel couldn’t stop himself from studying Justin’s well-sculpted facial features. He was indeed very handsome.  
Once they’d gotten to the vending machine, Justin searched his pockets then sighed.  
“Shit. Euro,” he mumbled.  
Emmanuel handed him 2 euros. “I’ve got you,” he smiled, And Justin hesitantly accepted the money “Thanks.”  
He stepped forward and inserted the 2 euros, and once he heard a loud thud; he bent down to pick up the bottle which happened to be just as Emmanuel moved forward to collect the change.  
Oh what a sight.  
Even though it was only light contact, it sent a jolt up Justin’s spine. Emmanuel being right behind him, nothing but fabric between...  
Justin quickly got up, with the bottle in his hand; obviously flustered.  
“Let’s head back,” he laughed awkwardly.  
Emmanuel instantly nodded and followed. They walked in silence for a while, until Justin was back at his door.  
“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Justin sighed.  
Emmanuel lingered for a moment then exclaimed. “Right… tomorrow.” His gaze was glued to the floor. “I uh… I suppose it’s gonna be difficult to have any productive conversations with Trump as a member.”  
Justin leaned a little closer, almost in a comforting way.  
“This also being your first time attending the G7 summit, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were to be slightly nervous,” he said, slowly pushing the door open without turning around. “I’d be happy to go through the topics with you.”  
Emmanuel hesitated, but entered at last. As soon as he caught a glimpse of the sheets of paper scattered across the room, he felt more unprepared than ever.  
“Don’t worry about that, it’s just notes and other work related documents.” Justin said when he spotted Emmanuel observing the state of his bed. “I mean uh… it’s not that I run across the room, throwing blank pages everywhere, or anything like that.”  
Emmanuel let out a light chuckle, and simply nodded. Justin clumsily organized some papers and cleared a spot for Emmanuel to sit and then gestured for them to begin. 

After discussing several of the topics, Justin realized that Emmanuel wasn’t just prepared, he was also prepared for any type of verbal twist (Presumably from Mr. Trump) or disagreement possibly involving budgets, tariffs or even military personnel. Just then he noticed Emmanuel’s stiff posture and the way he was rubbing the lower of his back, with a frown on his face. He recalled the encounter on the balcony earlier that day, and realized that when he startled Emmanuel, he accidentally made him trip and crash into the railing.  
“Let me take a look at that,” Justin said. “It’s my fault after all.”  
Emmanuel flinched, obviously taken aback by the apologetic tone in Justin’s voice.  
“Of course not, don’t think about it, it’s nothing,” he responded, dismissively.  
Justin got up and disappeared into the bathroom, just to return a few seconds later with a white box. Emmanuel didn’t protest when Justin rummaged through the medkit picking out some items. He took some cotton and a small bottle of alcohol.  
“I’ll get some ice from the hallway,” he said, and walked out.  
Emmanuel took it as a cue, and started unbuttoning his shirt. When Justin returned he was met with a bruise the size of hand and a relatively big laceration, spread across Emmanuel’s back.  
“Why didn’t you get this checked out, should I call someone?” Justin asked slightly frantic, as he started wrapping the ice into a clean piece of cloth.  
“Don’t be dramatic, I’ll be fine,” Emmanuel said, with a chuckle.  
Justin turned to him, gesturing for him to turn around as well. He soaked the cotton in alcohol, and gently dapped it across the cut. Emmanuel flinched as the liquor started stinging in his wound. Justin then proceeded to tuck the ice filled cloth against the bruise, as carefully as possible. He held it there as he admired Emmanuel’s body. Extremely toned and beautiful.

They both knew that the situation was highly inappropriate. No world leaders would ever spend the evening alone in a hotel room, or anything of that sort. Nevertheless they didn’t bring any of that up. Soon they dozed off among the papers and folders scattered across the bed.

……………………………………………………….  
The next morning

Emmanuel slowly opened his eyes as the sun was shining; flickering upon his eyelids. It took a few minutes before he was properly awake and aware of the fact that he had never returned to his own room. Even more surprising; he found himself being spooned by Justin. The night before, they had both fallen asleep with their clothes on, surrounded by crumbled sheets of paper. He slowly tried to remove Justin’s arm, that was holding a tight grip around his upper abdomen, but after a few attempts Justin tightened his grasp. His breath was tickling Emmanuel’s neck, and he became aware of how terribly awkward the situation was. Just then, he noticed something rather odd, Justin’s lower body was pressed up against him. Something poking him in the back. Emmanuel gasped, realizing that he had to get back to his room, before things got even more awkward. As he tried wiggling his way free; Emmanuel accidentally jerked further back into Justin’s… ‘situation’ causing his breath to become unsteady. After a while Emmanuel escaped, and made his way back to his own room.  
“Merde.”

After Justin had woken up, he got ready for the G7 board meeting. As he arrived at the round table where the leaders would be seated, he spotted Emmanuel from across the room. Justin wasn’t sure when Emmanuel had returned to his own room but figured that he must’ve left when Justin had fallen asleep. It was unprofessional and he was just relieved that they hadn’t slept in the same bed. Little did he know that Emmanuel still recalled the poking sensation against his back.  
“Justin!” A voice behind him said. He turned around and saw that Donald was standing uncomfortably close to him.  
“Good morning Mr. Trump,” he said and shook his hand. “It’s good to see you again.”  
Donald smirked, as he quickly glanced at his phone. Just then Donald Tusk (Chairman of the European council) walked up to them.  
“Hello gentlemen,” he said laying a hand on Justin’s back. They both extended a hand, and engaged in a clumsy handshake. A few minutes of small talk later, Justin approached Emmanuel who had just finished a conversation with Angela Merkel.  
“Mr. Trudeau,” he smiled. “I’m looking forward to hopefully reaching an agreement with you as well as the other world leaders.”  
“So do I,” Justin responded.  
After everyone had been seated and topics had been discussed, the summit was looking promising despite the presence of Donald Trump. Emmanuel made an attempt not to stare at Justin, who seemed rather unfazed by their last encounter. Staying focused was a challenge, especially when he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about the way Justin had been pressed up against him that very same morning. Not to mention what had also been pressed up against him that morning.

Time went by unbelievably slow, and Justin couldn’t seem to get his mind straight. Every time he looked at Emmanuel, it sent a jolt to his lower abdomen. Making his trousers feel unbearably tight. He kept telling himself over and over that it was nothing but the aftermath of insomnia and overworking himself. 

After the meeting Emmanuel started heading for the elevator, reconsidering as soon as he saw Justin standing in the back of the very same elevator. He was soon pushed inside by a herd of people wanting to enter as well. As soon as the doors closed he realized how cramped they actually were, finding himself once again pressed up against Justin, with nowhere else to go.  
“Why am I not surprised,” Justin smirked, attempting to keep a few inches between them (which was impossible). Before Emmanuel could respond, he was pushed further into Justin by the people behind him. Their hips were pressed against each other, and suddenly someone accidentally backed into Emmanuel. The decreasing space was unbearable, as their lower body halves were unavoidably slamming into each other. A sudden movement jerking him forwards drew a moan from Emmanuel, who immediately covered his mouth. The noise in the elevator made it impossible for anyone to have heard, but Emmanuel couldn’t stop himself from blushing; begging his lower body half not to respond. He barely noticed that Justin had his face turned away, while panting, obviously straining to remain calm. After what felt like decades, the doors opened and they both hurried in different directions.

Donald cleared his throat, signaling for his bodyguards to stay in place as he took a few steps forward, leaning against the marble wall. He reached for his phone which vibrated 3 minutes early.  
“You’re being impatient honnie,” he mumbled into the phone, with a smirk. His bodyguards turned away partly to show respect for the president’s privacy but also to hide the cringe.  
“I know, I know, but if I leave they’ll notice my absence. Plus, this is my job I can’t just leave whenever you need me,” he scuffed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a frown.  
“No I’m not choosing work over you!” He insisted. “Don’t be ridiculous, I’ll fly over when the summit has ended.”  
He sighed, occasionally changing positions.  
“Don’t be like that just because you didn’t get to join! You know what you did, and they’re not gonna let you come back before you’ve learned your lesson,” he said, trying to keep his voice down.  
“Of course I’m on your side, you know that darling. Just promise me you’ll be patient, and I’ll make it up to to you in no time.”  
He quickly put the phone back in his pocket, and his bodyguards followed as he started heading for the limo. 

Omarosa handed Melania a bottle of sparkling water, and they both sat down on a bench in front of the hotel.  
“You excited to go back home?” Omarosa asked taking a sip of her iced coffee. Melania straightened her skirt.  
“This trip has been rather unpleasant… of course, I was expected and not able to decline.”  
Omarosa raised an eyebrow, letting her lips slide off the straw.  
“I guess, but haven’t you considered doing something you’d enjoy?”  
Melania tilted her head, obviously unable to come up with any examples.  
“Okay forget that,” Omarosa sighed, then suddenly jumped with excitement. “But there’s still time, we’re in Italy for fucks sake.”  
Melania’s eyes went wide. “What are you talking about?”  
Omarosa sprung from her seat, dragging Melania with her.  
“What are you-“ Melania started, nearly tackling an elderly woman. Omarosa didn’t answer, but merely pulled her forwards, until they reached a souvenir shop. They stumbled inside, and Omarosa immediately began searching through a rack of swimsuits.  
“You’re not actually suggesting that…” Melania started, but trailed off as she realized that it had been ages since she’d done something spontaneous.  
Omarosa threw a red swimsuit at Melania, who caught it out of pure impulse. For herself Omarosa picked out a red, white and green swimsuit.  
“Put it on, and we’ll pay on our way out,” she smiled, pointing at a nearby fitting room.  
Once they’d gotten changed, Omarosa stepped out, and Melania a few seconds later.  
“You look amazing, are you ready to have some fun?”  
Melania sighed. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

The beach was filled with people most of which were probably tourists. They dropped their bags at a nearby bush, and started making their way to the water. And when the sand started getting soggy beneath their feet, they stopped to dip their toes.  
“The water’s great, let’s go,” Omarosa said as she was dipping her toe in the turquoise water.  
“We could also just-“ Melania was cut off, getting dragged into the ocean by Omarosa. Before she could even argue, they were running through the waves, water splashing up their thighs, and wind tucking at their hair. Omarosa started laughing, twirling still holding on to Melania. After a while, they were standing still, gazing at each other’s eyes… then lips. Omarosa moved her hands to Melania’s hips, and started leaning in.  
“Wait,” she said looking around as if someone was watching them.  
“The press?” Omarosa said, loosening her grip on Melania. “They wouldn’t even know we’re here.”  
“You’d be surprised,” she answered, giving Omarosa a gentle smile. “Let’s head back.”

Emmanuel was getting ready to part with the other world leaders, which of course would include Justin. Even thinking about it made him cringe, considering that their last encounter was extremely awkward. As he spotted a few of them, his bodyguards got into position leaving the leaders some space for a proper departure. Theresa May was having small talk with Angela Merkel, and Justin seemed more than desperate to escape a conversation with Trump. Emmanuel approached them, picking up a bit of their conversation.  
“And then I said: I have the best brain-I’m a stable genius.” Trump stated, with a proud smirk.  
“Emmanuel!” Justin said, relieved to avoid responding to Trump’s profoundly odd statement. “How’s your back?...” he asked apologetically.  
“His back?” Trump asked, with a slightly amused expression. “What were you guys up to last night?  
Emmanuel’s eyes went wide with horror, as Justin tried to save the situation.  
“Wait no-“  
“I didn’t know you like it rough Emmanuel,” Trump continued. “I mean you don’t look fragile, so Justin must’ve put in a lot of effort.”  
“That’s not-“ Emmanuel exclaimed.  
“Like a LOT of effort! Am I right?” Trump grinned, giving Justin a few pats on the back.  
“SIR, YOU ARE MISUNDERSTANDING THE SITUATION!” Emmanuel burst out, completely flustered.  
“I know, I know,” Trump laughed. “I was just teasing you, but the way you’re getting all defensive makes me think I was right,” he continued. “And that almost never happens!”

And alas both Emmanuel and Justin thought to themselves 

“I did not sign up for this!”


	2. G20 summit 2017

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for some intense 'never have I ever'

In the time leading up to the G20, Emmanuel had been nervous at the thought of meeting Justin again. He had to prepare himself both mentally and physically, as he knew attending the summit would be stressful, and emotionally draining. Of course he was always one step ahead, which gave him an immense advantage. 

Justin had been in great spirits, since the preparations of the summit had begun. Due to his past, Justin was probably one of the most socially-skilled world leaders, but for some reason he just always seemed to forget his words whenever he thought about Emmanuel, thus making him feel more or less oblivious as to what he could expect. Of course this called for some lucky socks, bright red socks at that. And with a smile on his lips, he boarded the Canadian jet.

As Trump was adjusting his extremely long tie, he held a phone to his ear.  
“I promise you, it’ll be fine,” he said with a smooth tone. “I’ve got self control.”  
He doused himself with hairspray, making sure the wind wouldn’t get him this time.  
“I know, I know! Be discreet, I’ve got it.”  
He didn’t notice Melania walking up behind him, but of course he never did. She knew all about her husband’s close relationship to the Russian government, and made a note to herself that Donald showed more love for Vladimir Putin than he had ever showed Eric.  
“Donald, it’s time to go,” she said, trying not to sound impatient. “You’re already on bad terms with chancellor Merkel, we don’t want to be late.”  
Realizing that he wasn’t listening to a single word she was saying, Melania grabbed the phone and hung up, not bothering to check who was on the line.  
“I was talking!” Trump complained, looking almost hurt.  
“Let’s go,” She answered, leaving the room, and as soon as she was gone, Donald picked up the phone to write a short text. “Sorry darling, that was Melania. I’ll see you in Hamburg.”

As the plane landed, Emmanuel felt uncertain of how he was going to handle the bilateral meeting with Justin, considering the press was there to catch every little detail. Nonetheless he was certainly looking forward to his first G20. The pilot stepped out first, and Emmanuel got in position to walk down the stairs, and across the red carpet. 

After a relatively short drive, they arrived at the entrance to Hamburg Messe.  
“This is gonna be a long day,” Emmanuel sighed. 

Justin had just finished the bilateral meeting with Merkel, getting ready for the G20 family photo. He spotted Putin looking almost lonely, as Trump walked right past him. Jacob Zuma (president of South Africa) walked up to Justin and started conversing. Of course the family photo was extremely awkward, but the fact that Emmanuel wasn’t standing beside him, might’ve been to Justin’s advantage, seeing as he’d be able to keep calm.

“Just act like we barely know each other,” Trump said under his breath, making sure no one but Vladimir could hear him. They were getting ready to act completely normal in front of the cameras, at the bilateral meeting between the US and Russia.  
(Obvious Russian accent)  
“Donald, how do you think I am not in prison, I act like I do not know Russian spy,” Putin whispered. “I am master manipulator.”  
“Right, well you didn’t fuck those spies,” Trump purred.  
Putin winked at him, fully aware that the press could have caught that. The meeting went smoothly, and Trump managed to not fuck up.

“Are you ready?” Justin asked, when he noticed Emmanuel fidgeting with his hands.  
“Yeah, of course,” Emmanuel answered as journalists started entering the room. The meeting went as planned, though Emmanuel had trouble concentrating due to Justin’s hideous red socks. He found it odd that Justin chose to wear amber shoes with a blue suit, and even more so that he couldn’t see how mismatched his appearance was. But for some reason Emmanuel couldn’t help but think that Justin was adorable.

After discussing the main topics, the members of the G20 were headed for a theatre. Once inside, Justin realized he was seated right beside Emmanuel.  
“What a coincidence,” he said sarcastically, taking a seat.  
“Hardly,” Emmanuel answered, not bothering to look away from the orchestra.  
“Right,” Justin sighed.

Halfway through, Emmanuel spotted Trump sneaking out, a feeling of deja vu. But something even more strange; Putin followed him. Against his better judgement Emmanuel decided to investigate. He slipped out unnoticed, making sure not to be seen by either Putin, or Trump. The farther away he got, the more the building started to feel like a maze, with the only way to find back being following the music. He caught a glimpse of two figures as he rounded the corner. Before he had a chance to identify the silhouettes, he felt a hand on his shoulder.  
“Jesus fucking Christ, would you stop doing that!” Emmanuel gasped, nearly tripping over himself.  
“What are you doing?” Justin whispered, not bothering to apologize for almost giving Emmanuel a stroke.  
“I could ask you the same,”  
He turned to the corner again, realizing that the two people he had seen was in fact Melania, and Omarosa.  
“What’re you looking at?” Justin asked, leaning in to see the First Lady and the president’s secretary sharing a passionate kiss. “What the f-“ he didn’t get to finish the sentence before Emmanuel had covered his mouth, dragging him away. They hurried into an empty elevator, and as soon as the doors closed there was nothing but silence.  
“We didn’t see anything, and you will not say a word about this to anyone,” Emmanuel said, without turning to him. And before Justin could protest, the elevator stopped abruptly. They both knew exactly what that meant.  
“No no no no!” Emmanuel panicked, pressing down all the buttons on the panel.  
“That won’t help, we’re stuck” Justin exclaimed, and sat down against the metal side. After a while Emmanuel joined him with a sigh. He reached for his phone.  
“Don’t bother, there’s no signal,” Justin mumbled, as Emmanuel started cussing.  
“What were you even doing?” He asked, running his fingers through his hair.  
“Well I wasn’t the only one who left suspiciously,” Emmanuel answered, trying not to recall the last time they were together in an elevator. “I honestly thought president Trump was the one having an affair, but I guess it was Melania all along.”  
“It’s probably better that way,” Justin said, with a smirk. They both started laughing at the thought of Donald finding out that his wife had a lesbian lover. It didn’t take long before the elevator started again, and they could return to their seats. To their surprise both Melania and Omarosa, Donald and Vladimir were sitting casually as they did before.

………………………………………………………………………………………………..

That evening 

It hadn’t been long since Justin had arrived at the hotel, and unpacked. Of course he was already feeling extremely bored. Even though he knew it was a bad idea, he opened the mini fridge and grabbed a bottle of champagne. Justin wasn’t exactly a lightweight but after finishing the bottle his judgment had gone down the drain. He made his way to the ground floor, awkwardly asking for directions at the front desk. He knew exactly where he was headed, as soon as the lobbyist had given him the room number. 

Emmanuel opened the door being met by what appeared to be a slightly tipsy Justin.  
“Thought you could use some company,” he smirked, letting himself in.  
“Sure, if you say so,” Emmanuel sighed, for some reason feeling slightly happy to see Justin. They sat down on the floor against the bed, with a bottle of bourbon.  
“How about we play ‘never have I ever’?” Justin proposed, taking a sip of the liquor.  
“That’s a bit childish, don’t you think,” Emmanuel answered, with a slightly intrigued expression.  
“That’s the good part,” Justin said, leaning closer. “Never have I ever thought that president Trump was sexy.”  
Emmanuel raised an eyebrow. “You suck at this, but I’ll drink to that out of pity,” he said, taking the bottle from Justin.  
“Oh well I guess I’ll just have to try again,” Justin smirked. “Never have I ever been photoshopped onto the cover of a gay magazine.”  
Emmanuel nearly choked on the bourbon, eyes wide as he caught his breath.  
“Oh no,” he sighed, burying his face in his hands.  
“Oh yes,” Justin grinned, feeling rather accomplished. “It was all over social media during the election.” He snatched the bottle and took a sip. “Nice abs by the way.”  
Emmanuel sighed yet again, wishing he had never opened the goddamn door.  
“Fine,” he exclaimed. “Never have I ever cried during an interview.”  
Justin tilted his head, a confused expression on his face. “Oh right, I did that,” he said, taking a long sip. “At least I wasn’t shirtless.”  
“Alright that’s it,” Emmanuel said. “Never have I ever poked someone in the back with my boner!”  
Justin didn’t even blink. “That makes us two.”  
Emmanuel rolled his eyes. “That’s not how I remember it.”  
Justin raised an eyebrow, his jaw slowly dropping. “Wait, what…” and that’s when he realized that Emmanuel had only left Justin’s room the morning of the last G7, which meant that they had indeed slept in the same bed that night.  
“Well, What can I say,” Justin shrugged. “Other than nice abs.”  
Emmanuel took the bottle, sliding it under the bed. It was pretty obvious that they had both gotten enough.  
“It’s my turn.” Justin said with a mischievous grin. “Never have I ever had a raw egg thrown at me.”  
Emmanuel laughed. “Oh yeah, I remember that.” Recollecting the unpleasant sensation of egg in his hair. “Never have I ever asked someone to use the term ‘peoplekind’ instead of mankind.”  
“I stand by that,” Justin scoffed, seeming rather unbothered.  
“Figures,” Emmanuel sighed.  
They fell silent for a moment. Justin gazed at Emmanuel, yet again feeling so unexpectedly drawn to him. He moved closer, as Emmanuel turned to him.  
“Justin…” he exclaimed, as he found himself unintentionally leaning closer as well.  
Their lips were just inches apart. Hesitating, breaking invisible boundaries, exploring, attempting. Until they collided. First slowly, carefully, then growing more urgent and passionate. Justin moved his hands to Emmanuel’s hips, drawing him closer. It suddenly felt so real. Emmanuel got on top, straddling Justin, digging his nails into his shoulders. Justin then proceeded to unbutton Emmanuel’s shirt, slowly leaving a trail of kisses down his chest. He felt Emmanuel shiver at his touch, sliding his hands under the white shirt until he had a tight grip around Emmanuel’s waist. They both knew it was inappropriate of them to even drink during the summit, but they were already way past that. Emmanuel placed a few kisses along Justin’s jawline, hearing him moan in response.  
“Hold on to me,” Justin hummed into his ear.  
Before Emmanuel could respond, Justin rose from the floor, carrying him. Emmanuel gasped, wrapping his legs around Justin’s waist. When they got to the end of the bed Justin moved his hand to the lower of Emmanuel’s back, placing him on the bed before getting on top of him.  
“Wait, this is a bad ide-“ Emmanuel tried but got cut off when Justin started kissing him. His tongue dominating Emmanuel’s mouth. He started moving down… until he got to the zipper of Emmanuel’s trousers, opening it with his teeth.  
“Justin, we shouldn’t take it any further,” he said, starting to sit up straight.  
Justin didn’t react, almost like he wasn’t listening. Emmanuel sighed, pulling Justin up to gain his attention.  
“We’ve been drinking, and I’m pretty sure you’re wasted,” he exclaimed.  
“You’re probably right,” Justin answered, resting his head against Emmanuel’s chest.  
“Yeah, so you should probably return to your room,” Emmanuel said, waiting for Justin to respond. But after a few minutes of silence, he realized that Justin had drifted off.  
“Fuck…” Emmanuel sighed, gently moving him from his chest to the the duvet. He knew that they couldn’t sleep in the same bed again, but there wasn’t really another option. He searched through Justin’s pockets, finding a key-card.  
“Oh thank god,” He exclaimed, getting his own key-card, before heading out. He hurried down the hallway until he reached Justin’s room, where he decided to sleep.

……………………

That morning 

After getting dressed (into the suit he wore the day before) Emmanuel found a pen and a piece of paper, intending to write a note for Justin explaining the situation. The note was the best way to apologize, without eye contact. After having written the note, Emmanuel decided to place it somewhere Justin would undoubtedly see it. He put it on the pillow, hearing a hollow sound under the pillowcase. He threw the pillow on the end of the bed, nearly getting a heart attack when he discovered an empty bottle, wondering how much Justin had actually drunk the night before.  
“Son of a…” he cussed, not really sure if he should be worried or relieved. Justin hadn't acted so irresponsibly while being sober, but being under the influence of alcohol made him quite bold. Emmanuel decided to ignore it and simply put the pillow back in its place. He brought both key-cards, as he left the room.  
“Emmanuel?!”  
He turned around realizing that Donald was standing right behind him in a robe.  
“Good morning sir,” he answered, trying not to gag at the sight in front of him.  
“Isn’t that Justin’s room?” Donald asked, with a mischievous grin.  
“Well yes, but-“  
“Oh I see,” Donald interrupted. “You’re the type who likes to cuddle all night.”  
Emmanuel shut the door, and took a few steps closer to Donald  
“We switched rooms, I gotta go.”  
“Well that’s no fun,” Donald answered, heading back inside. Just before the door shut, Emmanuel heard someone talking, with an obvious Russian accent.  
“Come back to bed my fluffy orange.”  
He quickly pushed away the thought, with a frown.

When he opened the door to his room, Emmanuel discovered that Justin was still fast asleep. He quietly retrieved Justin’s key-card, and left before he woke up. A few hours later when he returned to pack his things, Justin had left. Emmanuel almost felt hurt. But more than anything else he just wanted to forget the entire thing, assuming that Justin did too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 'never have I ever' statements are things that have actually happened (Except for the boner in the back one) and as I have recently been made aware of Emmanuel did not appear on the cover of a gay magazine to support the LGBTQ community... sadly that was Photoshop and not something that had actually happened. So I corrected it... like uh... kinda.  
> Also Justin always wears ugly socks, so google that too.


	3. Media conference Paris part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to get intimate

Media conference-Paris part 1

It had been a few months since the G20 summit in Hamburg, and Justin was still trying to fill in the blanks. He wasn’t able to concentrate, mostly due to the fact that he didn’t entirely remember what had happened after he entered Emmanuel’s room. It wasn’t that he had gotten blackout drunk, of course Justin remembered some blurry details, but nothing after “peoplekind.” It bothered him that he wasn’t able to recall what had let him to wake up in Emmanuel’s room. Except for the note that is. 

“I borrowed your room, I hope you don’t mind since the bed I was supposed to sleep in was occupied. Anyway you fell asleep and I thought I’d let you stay.”

-Emmanuel

And so Justin had woken up with a headache, alone in Emmanuel’s bed, deciding that it would probably be a good idea to slip out before anyone noticed. It wasn’t the first time he found himself on awkward terms with Emmanuel, but on some levels it felt different this time. As if Emmanuel knew something Justin did not. But with their upcoming meeting in Paris things were bound to get complicated.

Emmanuel was standing in front of the mirror, not really sure of which plain suit to wear for the news conference. He didn’t usually feel stressed about what to wear, but for some reason he did now. Maybe he wanted to signal that he was definitely keeping it together, even after having the Canadian prime minister leave hickeys on his chest. In any case Emmanuel made sure to look good for the cameras. 

Justin got in the car, on his way to the Élysée palace, where the meeting would take place. As nervous as he was, Justin knew that no matter what happened, the press could under no circumstances catch on to the tension between him and Emmanuel. 

Justin got out of the car, Emmanuel ready to greet him, when his heart started beating even faster. Though Emmanuel seemed to be completely calm and professional, Justin felt him hesitate when they hugged. Perhaps due to the presence of the cameras, or that it had been under different circumstances they’d hugged the last time. Once the press was satisfied, they went inside, with no clue as to what exactly was ahead of them emotionally. 

During the meeting they both had to act completely professional, even if that seemed like an impossible task. Of course Emmanuel had no idea Justin wasn’t able to remember what had happened after they’d finished playing ‘Never have I ever’ but as far as he understood, they were going to pretend nothing happened. Even so, Justin seemed impatient. As if he was aching to say something. And as soon as the meeting was over, Justin pulled Emmanuel to the side as the staffers were preparing for the news conference.  
“I’m uh… sorry for crashing in your room… that time,” Justin awkwardly apologized.  
Emmanuel was rather surprised that they were suddenly discussing the very incident they were trying to forget.  
“That’s the least of our worries, why are you bringing it up so suddenly?” He asked, avoiding eye contact.  
“Well, I thought the decent thing to do would be apologizing,” Justin explained. “And what do you mean ‘the least of our worries’... what are you…”  
And then he remembered. All the blurry memories suddenly cleared. The event pieced itself together, until everything seemed obvious. As if what had been erased suddenly got recalled.  
“I kissed you,” Justin gasped.  
Emmanuel sighed dramatically. “Look, I shouldn’t have let you in. I knew you were under the influence of alcohol, and I had responsibilities as well.”  
“I unzipped your pants with my mouth…” Justin mumbled, seemingly distracted by what he had just learned.  
“Justin. Focus,” Emmanuel exclaimed. “That’s all that happened,” he said, leaning against the wall. “It was unfortunate, and it shouldn’t have happened, but it did… let’s just end the discussion here.”  
Justin wasn’t sure of what to say, or even how to feel. Of course Emmanuel was right, even if what they had was short lived.  
“Right,” he sighed, not really seeing any other option.  
Emmanuel gestured at the door, as the reporters were getting into position.

After the news conference, they were scheduled to have lunch at Élysée palace. It wasn’t exactly joyful. Emmanuel was merely poking at the food on his plate, while Justin was simply slumped back in his chair, pretending to be deeply interested in the glass of wine in his hand. He reached for the bottle to refill his glass, and as he did, Emmanuel raised an eyebrow.  
“Take it easy on the wine.”  
Justin rolled his eyes. “Scared I’ll come over there?” He teased.  
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Emmanuel answered, turning his gaze toward the window.  
“Well, it’s just that you look like you’re afraid I’m gonna carry you to the nearest bed,” Justin shrugged with a smirk.  
Emmanuel cleared his throat. “What are you doing.”  
“You’re the quiet type,” Justin said. “I wonder what it’ll take to make you scream.”  
Emmanuel’s eyes went wide. “That’s not-“  
“Or maybe you’re a crier,” Justin interrupted. “Well that’s interesting.”  
“What?!” Emmanuel hissed. “Why? Why would you? Why?”  
“I mean you’re welcome to prove me wrong,” Justin pointed out, pouring wine into Emmanuel’s glass.  
“This is absurd, what happened to ‘you’re right’?”  
“Am I not allowed to joke around?” Justin asked, tilting his head.  
“This is inappropriate, you do realize that this visit is strictly professional,” Emmanuel said. “Strictly professional,” he repeated.  
“What does that make the G20 summit?” Justin teased.  
Emmanuel sighed. “Look, we need to avoid further damage, and ‘joking’ isn’t the way to do that.”  
“I understand… I guess I just can’t stop thinking about… what could’ve happened.” Justin exclaimed. “I know what I would’ve done.”  
“Justin don’t…” Emmanuel pleaded.  
“You have a sensitive chest, do you remember?” Justin said, with a low voice. “When I kissed you.”  
Emmanuel didn’t say anything, but Justin knew he was listening intently. He moved his foot closer to Emmanuel under the table, then in between his legs and started sliding his shoe along the fabric, until it was resting on the chair against Emmanuel’s inner thighs.  
“That’s enough Justin.” He said, and cleared his throat.  
But Justin simply stepped down gently at first.  
“I said, that’s enough.”  
“You’re contradicting yourself,” Justin pointed out, the tip of his shoe pushing against the zipper of Emmanuel’s trousers.  
“Please.” And as he said that, Emmanuel became painfully aware of the fact that his lower half was responding.  
“Begging suits you,” Justin said. “Go on.”  
“Think about what it is you’re doing!” Emmanuel hissed. “You’ll get both of us impeached. Do you even realize what could happen?!”  
Justin removed his shoe. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”  
Emmanuel sighed. “I should…” he started, attempting to stand up. “Or not,” he mumbled, stopping himself. “You should leave first.”  
“That might take some time,” Justin answered, his trousers just as unbearably tight as Emmanuel’s.  
“I’ll be down in a minute,” he said. “I mean out,” he quickly added. “Of the door. I’ll be out of the door.”

After an extremely awkward lunch, Emmanuel contemplated how he was going to make it through the night, with Justin staying at Élysée palace. Nevertheless, Emmanuel decided that as long as he avoided interaction, things would hopefully be manageable. Of course that would turn out to be wrong. 

That evening Emmanuel would find himself walking down the hallways. Begging himself not to but eventually knocking on the door to Justin’s room.  
“What a surprise,” Justin said, leaning against the doorframe.  
“I just came to say goodnight,” Emmanuel explained.  
“You’re a terrible liar,” Justin smirked, dragging him inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s in two parts so that those who are uncomfortable with sexual content can skip the next chapter (it won’t affect the storyline)  
> With that being said; those who are comfortable with it better buckle up.


	4. Media conference- Paris part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexual content (skipping this chapter won’t affect the storyline)

“Wait wait wait!” Emmanuel pleaded, as Justin shut the door behind him. “I really did only come here to say goodnight.”  
Justin chuckled. “And I really do think you’re a terrible liar.”  
“Yeah, okay fine,” Emmanuel admitted. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”  
“Look, this isn’t gonna just disappear, so I suggest we solve it right here, right now.” Justin said, pushing Emmanuel against the door. One arm around his waist, and the other keeping his hand pinned up. Emmanuel using his free hand to hold onto Justin’s shoulder.  
“Can I kiss you?” Justin asked, almost too impatient to wait for an answer.  
“When I leave this room, we’ll pretend nothing ever happened, because this is the only time we’ll do this, and only to get it out of the way.” Emmanuel said, being very clear. “Now you can kiss me.”  
Justin didn’t waste a second, his breath unsteady as he kissed Emmanuel’s neck. Moving down to his collarbone, slightly biting as he helplessly tried to control himself. Emmanuel however, didn’t seem to mind.  
“I’m reaching my limit…” Justin panted, bringing his lips to Emmanuel’s.  
“I can tell,” Emmanuel answered, closing the distance between them.  
Justin playfully bit Emmanuel’s bottom lip, kissing him eagerly. Emmanuel didn’t stop him, but merely backed him into the bed, unbuttoning his shirt without letting their lips part.  
Justin started working on Emmanuel’s belt, throwing it across the room, then pulling him even closer. He moved his hands under Emmanuel’s shirt, sliding it down his shoulders, and after pulling it off he proceeded to run his fingers over the warm skin, with a soothing touch. Emmanuel was starting to get just as riled up as Justin, who he then kissed along the neck. He tugged Justin’s arms above his head, pinning him down as he continued leaving soft kisses further down his chest. He then moved his attention to Justin’s member which was straining against the fabric, and unzipped his trousers. Emmanuel licked his lips at the sight in front of him, he gently pushed his knee between Justin’s legs, into his erection, causing him to cry out in pain and pleasure.  
“Oh sorry, did that hurt,” Emmanuel said sarcastically.  
Justin scoffed, turning his face away, struggling to get his hands free. “Hurts…” he said, panting.  
“Here?” Emmanuel asked, tugging at the waistband of his boxers.  
Justin barely got a hand free, before instantly getting it pushed down again.  
“That won’t do,” Emmanuel exclaimed, getting a tie from the nightstand.  
He tied Justin’s wrists to the headboard, making sure they weren’t too tight. He heaved a sigh as he ran his lips down Justin’s chest. Emmanuel pulled his boxers further down, and Justin shivered in response.  
“Can I…?” he sighed, his patience wearing thin.  
“Do you really need to ask,” Justin answered, biting his lip.  
Emmanuel slowly started stroking Justin’s member, eventually picking up the pace. He leaned in, pressing his lips against Justin’s. Turning him into a moaning mess, made Emmanuel extremely aroused. He studied every expression, every way Justin’s voice curled, the way he bit down to suppress his moans. Emmanuel sped up the pace, getting rougher. Justin was getting close, desperately panting against Emmanuel’s lips. It was as if the room was spinning, his senses on fire and the floor moving beneath them. He was losing his mind, by Emmanuel’s hand. His body felt electric, almost to the point he thought he’d faint. Emmanuel sensing that Justin was reaching climax, kissed him roughly. Justin arched his back, straining against the ties, as he came. Emmanuel continued kissing him as he finished orgasming, then untied him from the headboard. Justin took a moment to catch his breath, as he slowly regained consciousness. Emmanuel was pretty sure that he’d have to take care of himself, but before he could get up, Justin had pulled him back down and gotten on top of him.  
“Let me… help you,” Justin said, moving his hand down Emmanuel’s spine, drawing him closer onto his lap. Justin guided his arms around his neck, until they were sitting in an embracing position. Emmanuel was already on edge. Curling his toes, his body glistening with sweat, just by the struggle of holding himself back, and his whole body trembling.  
“I’ll take care of you,” Justin whispered into his ear, as he started working his way into Emmanuel’s boxers. He started stroking, just like Emmanuel had done, and supported his lower back with his free hand. He couldn’t help but want their relationship to continue, even if that was impossible. Emmanuel was surprisingly quiet, resting his chin on Justin’s shoulder. He seemed desperate just moments before, but now he was simply panting. Justin started stroking even faster, kissing his neck just under his ear. Emmanuel really was the quiet type. Nothing but an occasional moan, and gasps escaped his lips. Justin- slowly losing faith in his own skills- stopped moving his hand.  
“Should I-“ Justin started.  
“Don’t… stop” Emmanuel pleaded, cutting him off.  
And Justin continued, slightly twisting his hand, as he felt Emmanuel shiver at his touch. Without much warning, and with a sudden jolt upwards, Emmanuel climaxed. He immediately collapsed back into Justin’s embrace. As he slowly caught his breath, his face buried in Justin’s shoulder; Emmanuel came back to earth.  
“We should wash up,” Justin mumbled, keeping a tight grip on Emmanuel.  
“Definitely,” Emmanuel answered, raising his head.  
Justin couldn’t help but lean forward, catching Emmanuel’s lips. He softly kissed him, slowly to keep it lasting. It felt different. Not like before. This kiss wasn’t the result of sexual tension, or curiosity; it was genuine affection. And even though they’d never admit it; the kiss was driven by emotion, and perhaps a need for each other’s warmth. Emmanuel reluctantly pulled away, with a sigh.  
“Let’s go wash up,” he exclaimed.  
Justin nodded, letting him go. He led Emmanuel into the bathroom, and they both took off the rest of their clothes.  
“Go ahead,” Emmanuel said, gesturing at the shower behind the glass frame. “I’ll get some towels, and soap.”  
Justin did as told, and got under the running water. Emmanuel soon joined him, holding a bar of soap in his hand. Justin turned to him, not really sure of what to do.  
“You still have… uh… on your stomach,” Emmanuel mumbled.  
Justin blushed, as he recalled climaxing all over his own stomach.  
Emmanuel didn’t wait for an answer but simply started cleaning Justin up. Once they were both done, Emmanuel stepped out first, wrapping a towel around his waist, getting another for his hair. Justin observed him as he dried himself off, still partially wet. He quickly turned away and switched to cold water, attempting to calm his body down. Emmanuel got dressed, and started cleaning up the mess in the bedroom. After a few minutes Justin had also gotten dressed, like Emmanuel wearing only sweatpants.  
“Goodnight Justin,” Emmanuel exclaimed, reaching for the door knob.  
“You’re leaving?” Justin asked, slightly disappointed.  
“What did you expect? I don’t want to be caught sneaking back to my room in the morning,” Emmanuel yawned.  
“As soon as you leave this room, this never happened,” Justin smirked. “Might as well make the most of it.”  
Emmanuel hesitated, then turned to Justin.  
“Only this once.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really late with this one, since I’ve been sick and busy at work. Also never expected it to be this difficult; writing smut that is...
> 
> Anyway I also just want to say that I read all the comments and I become a little less dead inside every time. So thank you!


	5. Joint press conference 2018 - Ottawa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a joint press conference, and a bit of catching up with the side ships.

Joint press conference 2018 - Ottawa 

The G7 was overwhelmingly close, and leading up to it was a joint press conference hosted by Justin Trudeau. The press conference between Canada and France was a message to the public, as well as other world leaders that the European Union had an ally in Canada. It was extremely important to show the countries commitment to avoiding trade war, in light of the U.S’s recent implementation of tariffs on steel and aluminum. President Trump’s decision had been met with criticism, even from the republicans, not to mention the outrage it had caused with the allies of the U.S. 

Justin wasn’t able to peel the smile off of his face, whenever he thought about… that night. Even though the purpose of him and Emmanuel sleeping together was to kill the sexual tension, it hadn’t seemed to work; at least for Justin. Even though they had agreed to pretend that their sexual encounter never took place, Justin couldn’t help himself. It was hopeless. He was helpless. At least that’s what he was convinced of. Emmanuel seemed like the perfect partner for just about anything. Their compatibility was increasingly certain. While Justin was liberal, Emmanuel didn’t identify as neither left nor right. He had gotten support from the socialist party, but on certain conditions. En Marche (Emmanuel’s party; also known as EM) turned out to be more right oriented than leftist and could best be described as liberal. Justin saw that as common ground, and something that could perhaps strengthen both their political and personal relationship. Which was a conclusion he had come to the night they had spent together.

******

“I’ve always been curious as to how we ended up here,” Justin said, his head resting just beside Emmanuel’s.  
“Really?” Emmanuel answered. “I’m pretty sure this bed is exactly where you intended us to end up.”  
Justin chuckled. “Not that,” he smiled. “Politics. Being world leaders.”  
Emmanuel furrowed his brow. He had often asked himself the very same question; especially during the election.  
“I can’t say I’m completely sure what caused me to end up here, but I’ve always been sure of what I’ve been passionate about.”  
“Do tell,” Justin encouraged.  
“I’ve been ambitious ever since childhood, which I owe to my grandmother. Even back then, I was firm in my beliefs. I’ve always sought knowledge and insight, but constant fear of my own incompetence has had its influence as well. The paths I have chosen reflect the things my grandmother has taught me. I support equality, no matter gender, religion, sexual orientation or color. I’ve throughout my campaign insisted that the European Union is a strength for the French Republic. We wouldn’t stand a chance alone against countries like Russia, the U.S or China. Only united are we able to gain authority.”  
“Marine Le Pen was very critical about the EU… do you ever consider what could’ve happened if she had won the election?” Justin asked, suddenly very aware of the threat the far Right posed to democracy.  
“Germany is a great voice of the unity, with Angela Merkel as it’s chancellor. With Britain leaving the EU, I’m not sure if Germany alone could uphold the union, even with 70 percent of all legal decisions being formed in that very country - that is if France under a Le Pen regime were to exit as well. I oppose nationalism, and populism (Trump is a populist, proven by his policy decisions and the slogan: ‘America first’). We see all the time that separation from the rest of the world (most often performed by dictators) only result in wars, fear and condemnation. Republicans use fear as a tool to gain power. I believe choosing inhumane methods only cause suffering to the people. Empathy is our strength, and those born with a lack of this will most likely follow morality and logic; which is in favor of empathy. It may sound corny but good will always win against evil, because the majority believe in freedom, equality and hope as a tool (the opposite of fear, and hate. Which is the strategy mostly used by those from the far Right). We are the dominant of all species due to this empathy.”  
Justin continued to feel empowered and inspired by Emmanuel’s endless thoughts of the world.  
“You’re beautiful,” Justin blurted out, in an attempt to express his fascination.  
Emmanuel looked at him, his eyes sparkling from the feeling of recognition that Justin had given him. He lifted his upper body, leaning over Justin’s chest, taking his hand as their lips met. Everything was so quiet and calm, yet Justin felt like his chest would burst, and his mind would unravel. The kiss went on, as if time had lost its value, and their responsibilities were of no importance. That moment was separated from everything they had promised each other about forgetting the night had ever happened; because neglecting that memory would be neglecting their values. 

******

Emmanuel was on his way to Ottawa for the joint press conference. With WTO on their side, he was convinced Trump would reverse the sanctions against Canada, Europe, Mexico and China. The downfall of the NAFTA agreement was deeply regrettable, and therefore a very important topic of the G7 summit. Even though Emmanuel didn’t want to admit it to himself; he was nervous. Nervous about seeing Justin again. Of course he had been deep in thought since their last encounter, and not just when it came to the sexual part. Whatever he saw in Justin, had left its mark. He was worried. Worried about losing himself in Justin, as he had that night. Worried about his abilities being compromised by what he felt about Justin. All in all: worried. He reminded himself that it was unprofessional of him to have those thoughts, and if Justin was able to play the game of pretend then he could too. Of course he had no way of knowing that Justin had also been extremely distracted, and confused. Neither of them had considered the consequences of getting attached emotionally - because that would never, and could never happen.

“I don’t understand,” Trump complained over the phone. “Why can’t we just invite Russia to the summit ourselves?”  
He was in a profoundly stupid discussion with his chief of staff John Kelly (who was not the expert on foreign affairs that the president should be talking to).  
“I’d advise you to refrain from mentioning Russia or Putin, since the public is already convinced that they influenced the election.” Kelly responded, dismissively.  
“Witch hunt! Hoax! Fake news!” Trump yelled into the phone, and hung up. He had enough to focus on already. The meeting with North Korean leader: Kim Jong Un was overlapping the summit, and he had to leave for Singapore a day early. In Trump’s mind everyone was devastated that he was not gonna stay through the entire thing; though in reality, all leaders could heave a sigh of relief at the announcement.

Melania didn’t attend the G7 summit, even though all spouses were allowed - and even expected to accompany the members. She was still recovering from the surgery, and declined the invitation. Of course the public took notice of this, and rumors surfaced. Omarosa and Melania’s son Barron had been with her nonstop, and it seemed that Barron had taken a liking to Omarosa. 

Putin was furious, frustrated, paranoid and even a little bit out of his mind when he thought of Donald meeting with Kim Jong Un. It took immense self control not to nuke North Korea, in pure jealousy. Donald had said to the press that Kim was a “smart cookie” which also made Putin flare with anger. It was going to be tough but he had to hold back and not press the (metaphorical) red button, and kill Kim. Although he did want to do exactly that.

******

“But you must have some idea of what led you here,” Emmanuel said as their lips parted.  
Justin blinked a few times, trying to remember key parts of his life that could have been an influencer.  
“I was basically desperate to achieve something. My father had been the prime minister, which put a lot of pressure on me. I’ve gone down so many paths, yet none of those careers felt right. I didn’t want to be the other politician named Trudeau, perhaps because I was afraid that people would see nothing but my father in me. I wanted to be my own person, and not just a shadow of my father. I ended up in politics anyway… I was just drawn to it. At first people were skeptical, mostly because of my age. Doubt follows when someone with a defiled past enters a career that could potentially affect millions of people.”

******

Emmanuel had just arrived at the location of the joint press conference. He got out of the car ready to greet the Canadian prime minister - who also just happened to be someone that Emmanuel had tied up and slept with - determined to make it appear casual. Justin didn’t seem nervous or otherwise affected; in fact, Justin wore a charming smile, suggesting that he was actually thrilled to get started. That was not the case. 

When they got inside - ready to begin the preparations - Justin discreetly took a deep breath. It was an even bigger challenge to keep calm around Emmanuel than it was trying to avoid trade war. The room cleared out, as the last details were being completed.  
“Hopefully we’ll be able to convince that demented orange not to impose tariffs,” Emmanuel sighed, gathering some loose papers.  
“Well that’s ambitious, might as well ask him to release his tax returns,” Justin scoffed.  
“It’s worth a shot,” Emmanuel responded. “The damage would be irreversible.”  
Justin standing beside him, raised his head to look at Emmanuel.  
“Isn’t it always…” he said, their gaze locked in mutual silence.  
His heart was starting to beat even faster, and Justin became painfully aware of the distance between their lips. He cleared his throat, and gestured at the door.  
“The press is waiting,” he added, reluctantly turning his gaze from Emmanuel.

The press conference went smoothly, and got immense media coverage shortly after. They were speaking on behalf of multiple parties, presenting the tariff implementation as a major loss for everyone involved; including the U.S and it’s working sector. 

Justin walked Emmanuel to an empty conference room where they’d be discussing some final details, before Emmanuel would be escorted by his security personnel to a nearby hotel. As they entered the room, they were both convinced it would be at least slightly awkward. Justin dropped into a plain leather couch, Emmanuel taking the one across. Silence filled the room.  
“Are you still thinking about…” Justin asked, rather suggestively.  
“That thing that never happened?” Emmanuel asked rhetorically. “No, never, not at all.”  
“Me neither, nope, 0%” Justin instantly responded.  
Sensing the tension, Emmanuel got up and moved to a small table in the corner with some bottles of water. He desperately attempted to ignore Justin standing right behind him. His breath became unsteady, as Justin continued leaning closer into him. He could feel Justin’s chest against his back, when Justin suddenly hugged him from behind.  
“We promised each other it was only gonna be that one time,” Emmanuel sighed, placing his hands on the table.  
“I know. This is a 100% platonic hug,” Justin answered resting his forehead on Emmanuel’s shoulder.  
They remained in that position for a while until it was time for Emmanuel to leave. They stood in front of the door not exactly sure of what to say. Outside the rain had begun to pour, throwing a depressive shade to match the mood.  
“Don’t worry,” Justin said. “Even if president orange juice won’t listen, the alliance between Canada and the EU will remain intact.”  
Emmanuel smiled slightly. “Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow at the G7…”  
And with that, Emmanuel had left the room, heading out to the car waiting for him.

******

Everything was quiet, as Justin gently brushed his fingertips against Emmanuel’s skin. His hand was hovering just above Emmanuel’s arm, and his lips were grazing his neck.  
“Why are you still awake?” Emmanuel asked, his voice low.  
“I think… I’m happy,” Justin whispered into his ear.  
“Very funny. Go to sleep Justin,” Emmanuel sighed.  
“I’m serious… if we only have until you walk out that door, then I don’t wanna sleep through this.” Justin exclaimed.  
Emmanuel turned to face him, raising his hand to stroke Justin’s hair.  
“This shouldn’t have happened, but we can’t go back. So when I do walk out that door… you’re not allowed to follow me,” Emmanuel said, looking straight into Justin’s eyes.  
“But you’re still here. If you really had any regrets, you would have left already,” Justin said, reaching for Emmanuel’s hand.  
Somehow it didn’t feel like an actual ending. Emmanuel didn’t answer. Justin couldn’t help but lean forward, his lips catching Emmanuel’s. He continued leaning closer until he was basically on top of Emmanuel who didn’t protest. The kiss was soft, yet urgent. Slow, but fervent. It went on until they were both out of breath, and their better judgment returned. Emmanuel’s fingers were entangled in Justin’s hair, as they paused to catch their breath. After a while they reluctantly parted, and Justin fell back into his pillow. His mind was blank, except for one thought.  
This can’t be the end.

******

He started walking, faster and faster. He’d been fighting his own mind for too long. He had to catch up before Emmanuel was gone… again. He rushed through the hallways. Down the stairs. Across the pavement. He spotted Emmanuel getting into the car, and knew: there’s only one way to go. He approached the security personnel, giving a professional nod to make it seem casual. The guard returned the nod, and gave him permission to enter the car. He quickly got in.  
“What are you…” Emmanuel gasped.  
“I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen. We’re in this situation for a reason. The damage is done. But we would’ve never let it happen if we ever thought it could affect our political views. We can keep our relationship and our jobs separated. It doesn’t have to end like this.” Justin insisted.  
Emmanuel didn’t say anything, and even his expression was completely blank. He hesitantly leaned forward, his gaze darting from Justin’s eyes to his lips. He sighed, unsure of how he could possibly dismiss what he already knew; the point of no return was no longer in sight. Time slowed down as if the moment was never gonna end. But it did. It ended. Emmanuel closed the distance between them, once again joined by lips. And this time the moment went on. The kiss quickly grew more rough.  
“Where do we go from here?” Justin asked, breathlessly.  
“The hotel,” Emmanuel answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut up ahead! Which means that if you want to avoid sexual content: skip the next chapter!


	6. The night before the G7 summit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains sexual content, so skip it if you’re not comfortable with that. (Skipping this chapter won’t affect the storyline)

Just smut, nothing else.

Emmanuel smoothly swiped the key card, instantly opening up the door. They stumbled inside, kissing each other fiercely. Justin used his foot to kick the door shut, his fingers working the buttons of Emmanuel’s jacket. They slowly moved further into the room. It was still pouring outside, revealed by a huge window reaching the floor, decorated with thick velvet drapes. Justin pushed Emmanuel to the floor gently, in the light cast by the window. He got down on his knees, crawling on top of Emmanuel.   
“You know there’s a bed right over there,” Emmanuel said tilting his head towards the perfectly made bed.  
“This is gonna get dirty,” Justin smirked, loosening his tie. “We’re in a nice hotel, so let’s not ruin the sheets.”  
Emmanuel didn’t protest, and merely raised his legs to push Justin’s lower back down, closing all distance between them. He let out a soft gasp, as he felt Justin’s fully erect length against him.  
“You weren’t kidding when you said it was gonna get dirty,” Emmanuel said, as he playfully pushed Justin roughly into his grasp, drawing a slight moan from his lips.   
“That’s cheating,” Justin said, biting his lip.  
“Can’t cheat if there aren’t any rules,” Emmanuel answered, with an amused expression on his face.  
“No rules you say…”   
Justin slowly made his way down Emmanuel’s chest, and further down…  
“Let’s continue from where we left off,” Justin whispered, once again unzipping Emmanuel’s trousers using his teeth.  
“Wait, Justin you can’t...“ Emmanuel trailed off, as Justin started using his mouth, skillfully working his tongue along the shaft.  
Emmanuel immediately threw his head backwards, arching his back. His vision started going blurry, as he lost track of everything. Justin couldn’t help but raise his head to get a glimpse of the sight in front of him. Seeing Emmanuel tremble before him, sent a jolt to his lower half, making him twitch with lust. Emmanuel covered his face with his hand, getting a firm grip around Justin’s hair. The rain was heavy, and the soothing sound of water against the glass of the window filled the room. Other than that nothing but panting could be heard. Emmanuel thrust up his hips helplessly as he felt himself reaching his limit. Justin started going faster and rougher, observing the reactions he received from Emmanuel.   
“Wait… stop… I’m,” Emmanuel pleaded, breathlessly.  
Justin however, kept going till Emmanuel’s legs were quivering, and his body seemed almost electric.   
“Wait…!” Emmanuel managed to get out, before cumming, with a low husky moan.  
Justin wiped his chin, licking his lips. The light shun from the window, highlighted Emmanuel’s chest, glistening from sweat. He pushed himself up with his elbows, his hair messy. Through the gap between his legs, he looked at Justin’s dazed expression.   
“Get on your back,” Emmanuel ordered.  
Justin collapsed beside him, and Emmanuel got on top. He couldn’t resist teasing Justin, once again pushing his knee in between Justin’s legs.   
“Wait!” Justin pleaded, throwing his head back, with a strangled moan.  
Emmanuel removed his knee, and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. He then lowered his lips to meet Justin’s, slowly but firmly kissing him. They only parted when their lungs were empty, and they had to breathe. Emmanuel’s fingertips wandered from Justin’s jaw to his chest, and then to his lower abdomen. He started sliding down the waistband, and Justin arched his back when Emmanuel used his mouth, working his tongue, playfully shifting the pace to draw out reactions from Justin.   
“Emmanuel… Emmanuel…” Justin moaned over and over.   
He curled his toes, biting his lip, as Emmanuel continued. The way Justin’s member was throbbing in his mouth, and the way his moans grew louder and more urgent made it seem as if Justin was in actual pain, mistaken for pleasure. Emmanuel considered stopping, but before he could do that, Justin came with a final strained gasp.  
Emmanuel wiped his cheek, with a smirk.  
“Are you… okay?” he exclaimed, pushing himself up to face Justin.  
“Definitely,” Justin answered, completely out of breath.   
Emmanuel leaned in further, his lips hovering just above Justin’s. It wasn’t their first kiss, and he knew that, but somehow the feeling of warmth stirred up inside, every time. Lust surfaced with a sudden urge. An urge to show more than just physical attraction. They were both slipping further away from their original values. It didn’t matter why or how. It was too late.   
“Justin…” Emmanuel hesitantly sighed against his lips.  
“It’s okay,” Justin answered, as if giving permission.  
Emmanuel brushed his lips against Justin’s, slowly and carefully. So carefully, it might as well have been their first kiss. 

“I didn’t leave any marks,” Justin said, sliding his fingertips over Emmanuel’s skin. “We’re gonna be around the press all day tomorrow.”  
Emmanuel was resting against Justin’s chest, curled up in the bathtub.   
“We’ve got bigger problems than hickeys.”  
Justin gently kissed Emmanuel’s neck, to his jawline.  
“I’m not taking any risks.”  
Emmanuel simply hummed softly in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not gonna lie, writing smut isn’t exactly something I’m good at... anyway hope y’all enjoy.


	7. G7 summit 2018 - Charlevoix Québec

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always this is a mix of facts and fiction!

G7 summit 2018 

“Justin,” Emmanuel said, nudging his shoulder. “Get up, you’ve got a summit to host.”  
Justin groaned and pulled the covers over his head, wrapping his arms around Emmanuel’s torso, like an anchor.  
“Get up,” Emmanuel sighed. “You don’t have time for this.”  
“Alright fine,” Justin mumbled, grabbing his phone from the nightstand. “Fuck…” he swore under his breath, when he saw the time.  
“Told you!” Emmanuel rushed. “How are you gonna get back?”  
“I’ll just take a cab,” Justin shrugged, buttoning his shirt. “I may need something to cover my face with though…”  
“Right, hold on,” Emmanuel said, digging through a drawer. “Here,” he replied, throwing some sunglasses in Justin’s direction.  
“Thanks,” Justin exclaimed, already halfway out the door.

After having successfully made it back, Justin quickly changed clothes, and started heading for Charlevoix Québec, where the G7 summit would be held. 

“Omarose!” Donald yelled, from the front of the plane. He was angrily watching Fox News, frowning at the reported negative response from the democrats.  
“For the last time Donald; my name is O-M-A-R-O-S-A!”  
“Yeah, yeah. Look at this fake news!” Donald hysterically complained, pointing at the screen.  
“I thought you liked Fox News…” Omarosa sighed, crossing her arms.  
“Not that!” Donald whined. “Wannabe Justin Bieber, and macaroon says tariffs are bad!”  
Omarosa blinked a few times. “So?”  
“Wilbur Ross assured me I’m doing a smart thing, which means Justin Timberlake, and mackerel are wrong!” Donald continued to whine. “And those dumb democrats are criticizing me.”  
Omarosa groaned, rolling her eyes. “Well this is gonna continue if you don’t repeal those stupid tariffs. Even the republicans are against it, and you’ve already broken off the NAFTA agreement. Don’t get into a cat fight with the EU as well.”  
“Excuse me I’m gonna have to call Sean Hannity, and get Wilbur Ross on Fox News, so that he can explain this, like he explained it to me; using Campbell soup!” Donald, confidently stated, reaching for his phone.  
Omarosa simply scoffed, and returned to her seat.

Putin was silently eating his dinner at an oversized rectangular table. He distantly digged a fork into the stroganoff in front of him, staring into the wall.  
“Mikhaïl!”  
A white haired, athletic, stone-faced man walked in.  
“Da,” he answered.  
“You’ll be keeping an eye on Kim Jong Un. Gather some men, and infiltrate the Singapore summit.” Putin ordered.  
Mikhaïl nodded, completely expressionless.

Melania had prepared a meal for Barron, setting the plate in front of him.  
“What’re you watching?” She asked, taking a seat beside him in the couch.  
“CNN,” Barron answered, not bothering to take his eyes off the screen.  
Melania flinched, knowing that her husband would be furious if he found out that his son was being exposed to actual facts.  
“How about some sports?” Melania tried. “We can watch golf.”  
Barron didn’t react.  
“Why would dad want to impose taxes on steel and aluminum, if he knows that the counterparts could just as easily respond with taxes of their own? Not to mention how this is going to affect the stock market.” He asked, his eyes still glued to the tv.  
Melania stuttered, trying to find a way to defend her husband, but eventually gave up.  
“Because daddy’s an idiot,” she sighed, slumping back into the cushions.  
She unlocked her phone when she felt it vibrate in her pocket. A message flashed across the screen:

U up - Omarosa 

She wasn’t sure what to answer, but decided to imitate her husband.

… - Melania 

Jk, what’re u doing rn? - Omarosa 

Watching CNN with Barron - Melania 

Lol *gasp* how could you! - Omarosa 

Don’t tell Donald I’m letting our son grow up to be a decent human being… - Melania 

My lips are sealed - Omarosa 

<3 - Melania 

She smiled, putting the phone back in her pocket.  
“Eat up, sweetie,” she said, giving Barron a peck on his cheek.

Justin was standing on the podium in front of the press, ready to greet the G7 members. The weather seemed to be in everyone’s favor, with the sun high in the sky. Once it became time for Emmanuel to walk onto the podium, Justin started feeling lightheaded. Emmanuel was wearing his usual suit, but somehow he had a glow around him that made Justin dizzy. With a nonchalant smile, Emmanuel reached out, and they gave each other a french kiss. Justin returned the smile, recognizing the scent of rain. Emmanuel was definitely wearing the same suit as yesterday with the purpose of teasing Justin. Getting distracted was inevitable, but at this rate, it would become constant.  
“Focus,” Emmanuel whispered, as Justin got carried away.  
“Very funny,” he hissed in response.  
They parted and Justin got ready to greet the next leader. As Emmanuel walked away, Justin had to force himself not to follow him with his eyes. He discretely loosened his tie, taking a deep breath.  
“Justin! This is terrific!” Donald said, with a mischievous smile.  
“Right,” Justin answered, instantly in a bad mood. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.”  
“C’mere!” Donald said, opening is arms wide.  
He hugged Justin, ignoring what he had just heard. The cameras were capturing everything, and Justin desperately tried to avoid checking his suit for orange tan, in front of the press.  
“See you inside,” Donald said, walking away.  
Justin sighed. “I’d really rather not,” he thought to himself.

“Mr. President,” a young man said, as he approached Emmanuel. “I’m Ray McCoy from security services. I’ve been assigned to get you safely from A to B.” He said, reaching in for a handshake.  
Emmanuel paused, as he studied the man in front of him. He seemed to be in his late 20’s or perhaps early 30’s. He had a charming smile, that made him look even younger, and slightly immature. Emmanuel wasn’t exactly sure how such a young person could possibly have reached that high of a position, but it seemed inappropriate to ask.  
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. McCoy,” Emmanuel said, shaking his hand. He winced slightly, at the firm - almost painful - grip of the young man.  
“You can call me Ray,” he answered.  
Emmanuel nodded, once again getting distracted by the sight in front of him. Ray had thick amber hair, and steel-like eyes, that somehow still appeared kind. He was taller than Emmanuel, and had a muscular structure, noticeable even through his uniform.  
“Can I ask how old you are?” Emmanuel blurted out, before really thinking.  
“I’m 37 sir,” Ray answered, with a shy smile.  
Something told Emmanuel that he was asked about his age often. There was something about him that reminded Emmanuel of Justin.  
“Of course, I’m sorry for asking.” He said, with a hesitant smile.  
“No problem sir,” Ray answered, right before receiving a message from his earpiece. “Understood,” he answered, with a hand to the device. “If it’s alright with you Mr. president; I’ll escort you to the venue now.”  
“Of course,” Emmanuel nodded.

“Siri, call honnie!” Donald yelled into his phone.  
“Calling Vladimir Putin,” Siri responded.  
“No Siri! Call Melania!” Donald shouted at the phone.  
“Calling Melania,” Siri answered.  
“Donald? Why are you calling?” Melania asked.  
“What are they saying on Fox And Friends?” Donald asked.  
“The usual. Aren’t you supposed to be busy with the summit?” Melania asked.  
“The other world leaders are bullying me!” Donald whined.  
“No honnie, I’m sure they’re not bullying you. Now go have fun, and remember to play well,” Melania said, trying desperately to get Donald back to work.  
“Fine,” Donald muttered, and hung up.

All seven members plus EU representatives were sitting at the round table, discussing the topics of the meeting. Ray was standing behind the chair of Emmanuel, with a neutral expression on his face. Security personnel were surrounding all members, at a respectable distance. Emmanuel felt strangely self conscious, but couldn’t help but smile whenever his eyes met Justin’s.

Once the meeting was over, the members took turns being escorted out. They walked down a hallway, with a couple of doors on each side.  
Suddenly a loud smash echoed through the building. Emmanuel’s eyes widened, and he frantically turned around, trying to spot Justin. The minor commotion started stirring up, as security personnel broke the grim silence, communicating sternly with each other. It was clear that the situation was becoming dire. Emmanuel’s heart started beating rapidly, to the point he felt it might burst. He saw Justin not so far away, trying to find him as well. Once they gained eye contact, they were pushing their way towards each other.  
“Sir, wait!” Ray called out, following him.  
Justin reached out, grabbing Emmanuel’s wrist.  
Ray was right behind them, nodding at another guard. People were being lead through the doors, and the hallway started clearing out. Ray pushed Emmanuel into a room, along with Justin, and no one but security remained outside to guard the doors.  
“What’s happening?!” Justin asked, once inside.  
“Security breach,” Ray answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun cliffhanger ↜(۳｀∇´)۳  
> I added Ray as a fictional character, thinking he could be a potential rival! Maybe? Anyway, the next chapter will be up soon!


	8. G7 summit 2018 - Charlevoix Québec part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Running into some problems?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note that some of these events are real and not fiction.

G7 summit 2018 - part 2

“Security breach,” Ray answered.  
“What the hell does that mean?!” Justin asked with a sigh, knowing fully well what that meant.  
“Look, we’re following standard procedure. This could be nothing,” Ray calmly answered. “Just, leave it to us.”  
“You heard the man, relax.”  
Emmanuel nearly got a heart attack, flinching when he spun around to see Donald in the back of the room.  
“What the actual f-”  
“Donald!?” Emmanuel cut Justin off. “How did you…”  
“Not important,” Donald said dismissively. “I normally don’t share, but you all look really tense right now,” he said, holding up a bag of doritos. “Want some?”  
Emmanuel stared at him, with a confused expression, before speaking. “... No!”  
“Suit yourself,” Donald answered, munching on his chips.  
“Oh what the hell,” Justin said, before Donald threw him the bag. “For all we know this is how we die.”  
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Emmanuel sighed.  
“C’mon, don’t be a square,” Justin said with a wide grin, standing beside Donald. “It’s regular sea salt, for your sensitive taste buds Mr. president.”  
Emmanuel rolled his eyes. “Very funny.”  
Justin grabbed a perfectly shaped dorito, throwing it in Emmanuel’s direction, intentionally hitting him on the forehead.  
“Alright, cut it out,” Emmanuel said, not reacting to having snacks thrown at him.  
“Nice one,” Donald pointed out.  
“I know right,” Justin answered, with a smile.  
Ray was still standing at the door, choking back a laugh.  
“This is nice,” Donald said. “I feel like we’re bonding.”  
Justin burst out laughing, while Emmanuel remained stone-faced.  
“We’re clear,” Ray said. “There’s no security threat.”  
“Then what the hell happened out there?” Justin asked, as Ray opened the door.  
“An unspotted drone crashed through a window further down the building,” he answered.  
“freakin’ technology,” Donald muttered.

The world leaders gathered in a relatively small room, with only a few press photographers. The issue at hand (trade) was to be solved, permanently if possible. They all gathered around a long rectangular desk, with Merkel standing face to face with a sitting Donald.  
“Sign the deal Donald,” Merkel ordered.  
“The U.S. is being treated so unfairly!” He answered. “So unfairly folks,” he repeated.  
“This is ridiculous,” Merkel complained. “Whatever you’ve got going on with Xi Doesn’t have anything to do with the EU or Canada.”  
“You’re all buying into this scam,” Donald lectured. “Gina is scamming you.”  
“Donald, this isn’t the way we do things,” Merkel scolded.  
Donald stood up and reached into his pocket. “Here Angela,” he said, throwing two pieces of candy on the table. “Don’t say I never give you anything.”  
Gasps, and murmurs could be heard throughout the room.  
“That is it, I am done,” Merkel said through clenched teeth.

Facing pressure from all members, and even his own advisers, Donald did end up signing. Not because he wanted to, but because anything else would be unacceptable, especially in the eyes of the public.

Emmanuel was getting ready for the dinner party, picking out some clothes. He wanted to look well dressed, but also casual and nonchalant. He felt himself constantly becoming more self aware, especially when it came to his appearance. Perhaps because he knew Justin would be trying to eye-fuck him. He ended up changing into a suit that complimented his figure. Just then, there was a knock on the door. Emmanuel went to answer, knowing who was on the other side.  
“Mr. president, if it’s okay with you, I’ll be escorting you to the dinner now,” Ray said.  
“Of course,” Emmanuel smiled, grabbing his key card, and closing the door behind them. “This isn’t a standard procedure though. Any specific reason security is so tight?”  
“Protesters,” Ray answered. “It’s not uncommon. Actually, the odd thing would be if there weren’t any,” He said as they walked down the hall. “It’s just a precaution. Justin Trudeau isn’t as popular here as you’d think. Most people were outraged when it came out how much has been spent on hosting this summit.”  
“I see,” Emmanuel answered, with a slightly concerned sigh. “So what happened earlier…”  
“Some asshole flew a drone through the window. There was fireworks plastered onto it, but luckily it didn’t go off,” Ray shrugged. “I’d imagine you’ve experienced worse.”  
Emmanuel chuckled, thinking back at all the ridiculous things people had thrown at him. “Well let me just say that I’ve had both flour, and a raw egg in my hair.”  
“Hey, that’s not bad, you can almost bake a cake,” Ray joked, with a childish smile.  
“Definitely not a cake I’d want to eat,” Emmanuel said, as they neared the entrance to the venue.  
“I’ll be in the back,” Ray pointed out, when they were inside.  
“Right,” Emmanuel answered, diverting his attention to Justin, who seemed to be mingling.  
“Emmanuel!,” Justin said, when he spotted him. “Excuse me for a second,” he told Theresa May, and Donald Tusk.  
“If you act so ridiculously happy to see me, people will start to suspect something,” Emmanuel sighed, with a look in his eyes that meant anything but disappointment.  
“What can I say?” Justin smirked. “I am ridiculously happy to see you.”  
Of course it brought that recognizable warmth, to hear those words. Emmanuel didn’t say anything but merely blushed. They walked towards a corridor with an empty room, where they would be able to talk privately. As soon as they were inside, with the door closed behind them, Justin laid his hands on Emmanuel’s lower back, drawing him close, in an embrace. He leaned in, resting his forehead against Emmanuel’s, and closed his eyes.  
“Is everything alright?” Emmanuel asked, not sure as to why they had suddenly left the guests.  
“I thought that maybe… we could take the next step,” Justin answered. “Tonight.”  
His lips met Emmanuel’s, and they were sharing a slow kiss.  
“What next step?” Emmanuel asked, as their lips parted.  
“Do you trust me?” Justin said, still holding Emmanuel.  
“Well that depends…” Emmanuel answered. “Are you gonna kill me?”  
Justin laughed, “No, I like the living version of you.”  
Emmanuel raised his head.  
“Then what?” He asked.  
“I want to go further,” Justin whispered. “I want to go all the way.”  
Emmanuel could lie and say he didn’t know what that meant, but that wouldn’t get him very far. It seemed like a dead end. There really wasn’t any way around it.  
“And you figured I’d be bottom,” Emmanuel sighed.  
Justin bit his lip, knowing he’d have a hard time convincing him. “Is that not okay?”  
“Well, is there any reason you can’t be bottom?” Emmanuel asked.  
“It makes more sense for you to be bottom,” Justin argued.  
“How so?”  
“First of all, I’m taller,” Justin tried.  
“That’s not a valid reason, and ouch my pride,” Emmanuel answered.  
“It’s just a fact, plus I’m older,” Justin continued. “Are you really saying you haven’t thought of this too?” He asked, moving his hands further down, trying to draw out a reaction from Emmanuel.  
“Of course I haven’t,” he lied.  
“I can’t believe we’re even having this discussion,” Justin said, rolling his eyes.  
Seeing Emmanuel’s expression, Justin realized that he had just dismissed Emmanuel’s insecurities, and basically mocked his totally reasonable concerns.  
“I can’t believe I’m having this discussion with you,” Emmanuel answered, making it very clear how insulting Justin’s remarks had been.  
He turned around, and walked out, before Justin could protest.

“Sir,” Ray called out, as he spotted Emmanuel heading for the terrasse. “Where are you going?”  
“Just getting some air,” Emmanuel answered, not in the mood for chatting.  
Ray followed him out, almost like a lost puppy. When Emmanuel realized that Ray had walked with him, not asking any questions, he turned around.  
“What are you doing?” He sighed.  
Ray tilted his head in confusion. “Sir, I’m not allowed to let you leave without any protection.”  
“I’m not leaving, I’m just getting some fresh air, and then I’ll be right back.”  
But Ray continued to follow him, as if he hadn’t heard any of what he had just been told.  
“What?” Emmanuel repeated, with a sigh.  
“As I said, I can’t allow you to go anywhere without proper security.”  
“Fine, sure I guess,” Emmanuel gave in, and sat down on one of the steps.  
Ray stood next to him, keeping a professional posture. “Any particular reason you’re sitting out here?” He asked. “It’s just that you seem upset.”  
“The trade agreement,” Emmanuel answered, though it was just one of his many worries. “Trump is partly right.”  
“Never thought I’d hear anyone say that,” Ray grimaced.  
“Well like it or not, he’s right about China taking advantage of the trade agreement that was created before China became an industrialized nation, under the regime of Mao.” Emmanuel sighed.  
“Excuse me what?” Ray instantly replied, confusion spreading on his face.  
“We have a trade agreement with China that exclusively benefits them. That trade deal was only established because China was a poverty stricken nation trying to grow its economy at that time. China’s still taking advantage of that agreement to this day, despite the fact that they’re a well developed nation.”  
“And why is that?” Ray asked, not seeing the complexity of the situation.  
“China is a powerful nation, so getting on their bad side would be a death sentence to a country’s economic growth. It’s risky, and the way Trump is addressing this problem is not only ineffective, but also harmful to the economy. He hasn’t just started a feud with China, but the EU and NAFTA participants as well. It’s an idiotic strategy. There’s a way to tackle this problem but whatever he’s trying to do is political suicide,” Emmanuel scoffed.  
“I see,” Ray sighed, not really sure what else to say.  
“We’ll handle this, but now isn’t the time,” Emmanuel said, getting up from his seat on the cold step of the stairs. “Let’s go back inside,” he smiled.  
Ray nodded and followed him through the door.

The rest of the dinner was relatively nice, despite the tensions between several of the world leaders. Emmanuel and Justin hadn’t talked much after they’d reached a dead end. Perhaps it just wasn’t the right event to discuss such topics at. It was bound to come up sooner or later though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trump did throw candy on the table, and China continues to take advantage of the trade agreement. Hopefully I can make the next chapter more upbeat...


	9. G7 summit 2018 Charlevoix Québec day 2

G7 Summit 2018 Day 2

“How much older are you?” Ray asked.  
“About six years I believe,” Justin answered.  
“He’s pretty young then,” Ray smiled. “The youngest of the G7 Members.”  
“The youngest leader of France since Napoleon,” Justin pointed out. “He’s the face of the future. The revolution.”  
“You’re very similar to each other,” Ray said. “It’s no wonder you both stand out.”  
“I’m glad you think so,” Justin smiled shyly. “He is pretty remarkable isn’t he.”  
“Yeah,” Ray answered. “He is.”  
“Stubborn as well,” Justin sighed, after Ray had left. “Too stubborn for his own good.”

Awkward… that’s one way to put it, Emmanuel thought. No other way than to negotiate. Even trade was easier to discuss. It was the second and last day of the G7 summit, and other than trade and Russia, things seemed relatively peaceful. Trump would be leaving for Singapore, to meet with Kim Jong Un, but of course not before taking part in a press conference. 

“We have a big trip coming up,” Trump started. “But first we wanted to have a little bit of a press thing, to announce the success of our trade negotiations.”  
he went on as the cameras rolled. “We’ve concluded a tremendously successful G7. I’d like to thank Justin Trudeau for hosting this summit. It has worked out to be so wonderful, and the people of Canada are wonderful, in a beautiful country might I add. Trade, a very important subject and the United States have been taken advantage of for decades and decades, and we can’t do that anymore. We’ve been treated very, very unfairly, and I don’t blame other leaders for that. I blame our past leaders. There’s no reason this should have happened. I congratulate the leaders of other countries for so crazily being able to make these deals that are so good for them and so bad for the United States. In just a few minutes I’ll be leaving for Singapore, and we’re gonna be carrying the hearts of millions of people. Okay any questions, yes yes?”  
A reporter asked about Trump’s expectations for the meeting with Kim Jong Un.  
“This has never been done before,” He answered. “It’s unknown territory, but I really feel confident that Kim Jong Un wants to do something good for his people. He’s got an opportunity the likes of which I think if you look into history very few people have ever had.”  
Another reporter started asking a question, to which the president nodded continuously.  
“Yeah I haven’t spoken to Putin in a long while,” He lied.  
“We’re like the piggy bank that everybody’s robbing,” He said randomly. “NAFTA can either be like it is, which is a threesome with Canada and Mexico, or we can have seperate deals. If a deal isn’t made, that could be a very bad thing for Canada and Mexico, but for the United States it would be a good thing (A lie actually). I’m not looking to play that game, so it’s fine.”  
After some blaming Obama and lying about some other things, a CNN reporter presented Trump with some facts, which of course the president is allergic to.  
“Who are you with, Just out of curiosity,” Trump asked. “I figured fake news CNN, the worst but you know I could tell that you’re with CNN. But you know we have a great relationship with, Angela, Emmanuel, Justin, I would say the relationship is a ten and i don’t blame them.” Trump rambled on. “The relationship is great so you can go tell your fake friends at CNN, the relationship I’ve had is great.”  
After an extreme amount of other lies, Trump finally left.

Justin desperately tried to repair the damage, and reassure the world that Trump had just left completely horrified. He gave a consistent briefing, addressing the situation correctly, adding that Canada would continue to move forward with the retaliatory tariffs. That just made things worse… as Trump tweeted: “"PM Justin Trudeau of Canada acted so meek and mild during our @G7 meetings only to give a news conference after I left saying that, 'US Tariffs were kind of insulting' and he 'will not be pushed around.' Very dishonest & weak. Our Tariffs are in response to his of 270% on dairy!"  
On Air Force One he pulled out of the agreement, which was yet another impulsive decision, to everyone’s disappointment. Everything seemed hopeless when it came to negotiating with Trump. The world was falling apart. Even democracy had become a rare sight. This was no surprise though, that’s just the way he is. Completely irrational, and childish. 

“I can’t believe this,” Justin burst out, kicking a box of files, that probably contained - now useless - information, focussing on the trade agreement Trump had just pulled out of.  
“Calm down,” Emmanuel said, remaining composed. Seeing how irrelevant those words were, he sighed and kept going. “Look, we’ll figure this out. Whatever happens, he’ll soon come to understand the mistake he’s made. The EU, former participants of NAFTA, and China all stand as an opposition to these tariffs. Until this is solved, we’ll just continue with retaliatory taxes.”  
Justin slowly seemed at ease when hearing Emmanuel’s comforting words.  
“I don’t understand this…” he sighed. “How could someone like this, be responsible for so many lives, and futures? He’s playing with people's source of income, as if he doesn’t know his actions have consequences.”  
Emmanuel knew that Justin was a very empathetic person, not to mention fragile. He took a few steps closer, hesitantly cupping Justin’s cheek in his hand.  
“We’ve done everything we possibly could. The rest is up to him.”  
Justin leaned into Emmanuel’s grasp, moving his fingers along his wrist and pressed a gentle kiss against the palm of his hand.  
“I’m sorry…” Justin sighed.  
“Don’t worry, I think we’re all circling the edge on this one,” Emmanuel answered.  
“Not that… I don’t want to make you do something you’re not comfortable with. I got ahead of myself, and I’m sorry.”  
Emmanuel smiled slightly. “No you were probably right. I expected it to happen, but I guess I just got cold feet,” he answered. “You asked me if I trust you, and I do.”  
Justin’s eyes lit up, and he couldn’t help but smile. “Does that mean…?  
Emmanuel bit his lip, as he nodded, suddenly very self conscious. Justin leaned in, forgetting time and place, when he carefully pressed his lips against Emmanuel’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a lot of this isn’t fiction, but things that have actually been said. The press conference is a collection of quotes that I selected (all said by the president and available on YouTube) mixed with my own commentary. The tweet is also directly from the president, which can also be found online. 
> 
> Smut up ahead btw!


	10. A night at The Fairmont Le Manoir Richelieu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took forever but finally we’re here!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, I really hope this was worth the wait. I’m sorry I couldn’t finish this chapter before now, but gay sex is much more complicated than I thought...  
> Anyway here it is!

I’m going to hell for this, hallelujah!

A night at The Fairmont Le Manoir Richelieu

“Are you… sure you really wanna do this?” Justin asked, leaning his forehead against Emmanuel’s.  
They were sitting in bed, sheets and pillows spread all over the place. The room was dark, and only lit up by the moonlight cast through the window, overlooking the shore. The room was on the highest floor, and security was guarding the area, as was protocol. The Fairmont Le Manoir Richelieu; a beautiful building located on the coast of Québec, and perhaps the most suitable place for the occasion.  
“I’m sure,” Emmanuel answered. “Probably.”  
They shared an awkward laugh, which wasn’t exactly surprising, since neither of them had been in the situation before.  
“Just follow my lead, and you should be able to enjoy this as much as I probably will,” Justin said, with a teasing grin.  
“What do you want me to do then?” Emmanuel playfully whispered.  
They were both nervous, and unwilling to show it. Justin felt the need to break the tension, and hesitantly leaned forward, awkwardly kissing Emmanuel.  
“It’s almost as if you’re more nervous than I am,” Emmanuel said, breaking off the kiss.  
“I don’t want to mess it up…” Justin answered, with an apologetic expression.  
“You won’t,” Emmanuel reassured him, as he placed his hands on Justin’s chest. “I trust you… so please trust me too.”  
He slowly started unbuttoning Justin’s shirt, while kissing his neck. He gently marked the skin with his teeth, following Justin’s collarbone to a sensitive spot just under his ear. Whatever Justin was feeling, it made him shiver at Emmanuel’s touch, and it instinctively made his heart beat faster. He moved his hands down Emmanuel’s lower back, and with a firm grasp on his thighs, Justin pushed Emmanuel into the mattress.  
“I trust you,” Justin exclaimed, unbuckling Emmanuel’s belt.  
He leaned down, their chests slightly grazing, as their lips met. As Justin dominated Emmanuel’s mouth with his tongue, he worked on his own belt. Emmanuel pushed himself up, and pulled off Justin’s shirt, while Justin finished sliding off Emmanuel’s trousers. He pinned Emmanuel’s hands up above his head, and started kissing his neck. Emmanuel moaned softly, and wrapped his legs around Justin’s waist. Justin let go of Emmanuel’s wrists, and instead lifted him by the hips, onto his lap. He started sliding Emmanuel’s shirt down his shoulders, and gently pushed him back down to his elbows. He hesitantly pulled at the edges of the waistband of Emmanuel’s boxers, while biting his lip. Emmanuel shivered slightly, when the entirety of his skin was exposed.  
“You’ll be more comfortable on your stomach,” Justin said, keeping his face close to Emmanuel’s.  
“Just don’t do anything without telling me first,” Emmanuel answered, turning to his knees, keeping a tight grip on a pillow under his chest.  
“Of course,” Justin said, positioning his hands on Emmanuel’s hips. “I’ll just start with a single finger, until you get used to it. Tell me if it hurts.”  
He moved his hand to insert the first finger, when Emmanuel grabbed his wrist.  
“Wait…” he started, “don’t… look at me… while you do it.”  
Justin raised an eyebrow in confusion, as he stared at Emmanuel’s hand still keeping his own in place.  
“I can barely see anything as it is, does it really matter?” He asked, noting that the only thing lighting up the room was the moonlight reflected in the ocean outside.  
Emmanuel didn’t answer, and had his face buried in the pillow. He didn’t let go of Justin’s hand, and keeping his arm in that position - with his lower half elevated - made his body look extremely lewd, which made it hard for Justin to hold back.  
“You trust me right. Don’t feel embarrassed… I’m already like this,” Justin whispered, leaning over Emmanuel’s body, and pushing his fully erect member against him. He took both of Emmanuel’s hands and pinned them to the headboard, reaching over to grab a tie from the edge of the bed. He kissed Emmanuel between the shoulderblades, before slowly tying his hands to the headboard.  
“Is this okay?” Justin asked, resting his forehead on the lower of Emmanuel’s back. “I won’t do anything you’re not okay with.”  
Emmanuel nodded, “It’s fine.”  
With his permission, Justin inserted the first finger, and started thrusting. He felt his way through the soft tissue, searching for the sweet spot. Emmanuel was being weirdly quiet. After loosening him up a little further, Justin started using two fingers, tentatively spreading them, when he concluded there was enough space. Emmanuel’s wrists were straining against the ties, and he continuously jerked away, whenever he started feeling stimulated.  
“I can’t do this if you keep moving,” Justin said, putting a hand on Emmanuel’s hip to keep him still. “Does it hurt?”  
Emmanuel didn’t answer, and Justin leaned over him, to lift his chin. As he did so Justin noticed dark liquid running down Emmanuel’s arm, leading to bitemarks in his skin. He was panting, and his legs were shaking.  
“Don’t hold back your voice. If you keep biting yourself to keep quiet, your arm is gonna be torn up when we’re done,” Justin sighed.  
He placed the back of his hand against Emmanuel’s lips.  
“Don’t,” Emmanuel answered. “I’ll just...”  
Justin didn’t respond, but started thrusting again; this time rougher. He went deeper, as Emmanuel helplessly clenched his jaw, to keep from screaming out in pleasure. His legs were giving out, and he briefly considered digging his teeth into Justin’s hand. He hissed repeatedly whenever Justin started nearing his prostate.  
“You’re tightening around me. Am I getting closer?” Justin asked, turning his hand.  
He grazed a bundle of nerves, making Emmanuel gasp, with a jolt upwards. Justin took it as a sign that he had found the spot, and thrusted deeper, ramming into Emmanuel’s prostate. And with that, Emmanuel cried out as a flash of pleasure struck his entire body. Justin pulled out slowly, and Emmanuel shuddered and collapsed instantly.  
“I think I can fit,” Justin said, searching his pockets.  
He pulled up a condom, as he thought Emmanuel would have no energy left to clean out the… “leftovers”? He lifted Emmanuel’s hips, and slowly pushed his member into him, making sure not to be too rough. Emmanuel shivered, as he felt a stinging pain, reaching from his stomach to his lower back.  
“I’m almost…” Justin panted, as he nearly climaxed once he entered completely.  
He took a moment to compose himself, while also giving Emmanuel a moment to register the situation. After a few seconds he decided to start thrusting, keeping a tight grip on Emmanuel’s hips. He slowly pulled out to thrust back in, keeping a steady pace. He arched his back, going deeper, and rougher. Emmanuel felt a mixture of pain and pleasure, almost impossible to describe, wavering after each thrust. His wrists were aching, and his skin burning from every second he struggled against the ties. Once Justin noticed the uncomfortable position Emmanuel was in, he leaned over, loosening the ties and pulling out. He turned Emmanuel around, switching to missionary position, guiding Emmanuel’s legs upwards wrapped around his waist. He took Emmanuel’s hand, and pressed a soothing kiss to his wrist, as he thrust back in. Emmanuel looked only half conscious, and his entire body was trembling. He helplessly clung to Justin, unable to hold back his voice. All he could think about was the persistent sensation of euphoria, and sheer exhilaration roaming his entirety. They were both reaching climax, when Justin raised his head to face Emmanuel, then aggressively kissing him. Emmanuel moaned against his lips, as it felt impossible to breathe. All his senses were stirring, to the point where he felt like he was on a high. Endless waves of satisfaction and relief flooded his mind and body, until the ground was miles beneath them.

And that’s when everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My thoughts writing this:
> 
> “Are you… sure you really wanna do this?” Justin asked.  
> Me: gee, Justin idk. I seriously feel like this is gonna come back to haunt me...
> 
> “I don’t want to mess it up…” Justin answered.  
> Me: My words exactly. Literally... my words.
> 
> As Justin dominated Emmanuel’s mouth with his tongue  
> Me: okay calm down, he’s not eating him.
> 
> Emmanuel grabbed his wrist.  
> “Wait…” he started, “don’t… look at me… while you do it.”  
> Me: I won’t even be able to look at myself in the mirror after this...
> 
> Tying his hands to the headboard.  
> Me: bondage... I can’t help it.
> 
> He felt his way through the soft tissue  
> Me: it’s sex, not surgery... poor Emmanuel...
> 
> “Does it hurt?”  
> Me: yeah but I’m a masochist so that’s okay.
> 
> Justin noticed dark liquid running down Emmanuel’s arm, leading to bitemarks in his skin  
> Me: well that escalated quickly!
> 
> Prostate  
> Me: cringe
> 
> “You’re tightening around me. Am I getting closer?”  
> Me: double cringe
> 
> He grazed a bundle of nerves  
> Me: wait, what does a prostate feel like? I’m definitely not gonna google that.
> 
> “Leftovers”?  
> Me: is that the most elegant way you could phrase it? Really?
> 
> And that’s when everything went black.  
> Me: Jesus dude, did you just kill him?


	11. Singapore bilateral summit 2018 part 1

Emmanuel opened his eyes hazily, sunlight instantly blinding him. He blinked a few times before turning his head, to get a better look at the surroundings. The night before was slowly coming back to him, but only in blurry clips. He ran his hand through his hair, and instantly noticed the marks on his wrist. Purple-ish lines covered his skin, and the other wrist looked identical. He tried to get up, but quickly discovered Justin’s arm wrapped around his waist. Justin was fast asleep beside him, his chest against Emmanuel’s back. He carefully freed himself from Justin’s grasp, and tried getting up. But as soon as he was on his feet, his legs gave out instantly. An odd kind of soreness spread from his lower back and throughout his entire body. He hit the floor with a loud thud and Justin instantly sat up.   
“What the- what happened?!” He burst out, instantly.  
“What did you do to me?” Emmanuel hissed.  
Justin moved down on the floor, next to him. “Did I kick you out of bed or something?”  
Emmanuel glared at him, as he tried getting up. He instantly fell back down, as Justin gave him a confused look.  
“Oooh… right, yeah, you’re gonna be sore for a while…” he smirked.  
“Don’t look so happy about it, you asshole,” Emmanuel said, making another attempt at getting to his feet.  
“Alright, that’s gonna take forever,” Justin sighed. “Up you go,” he said as he swept Emmanuel off the floor, carrying him bridal style.  
“That’s not funny, put me down,” Emmanuel ordered.  
“Let’s go wash up,” Justin said dismissively.

Singapore bilateral summit 2018

Donald was extremely excited to meet Kim. He would be the first president of the United States to do so. He decided to call Omarosa who would be joining him on the trip, to get some encouragement.  
“Omarosa! I’m going to meet little rocket man!” He said, proudly.   
“Don’t call him that,” Omarosa instantly answered. “You almost started a nuclear war with that stupid nickname.”  
“But it’s the best nickname ever. Little rocket man is going to be my friend, isn’t it great?” He bragged, possibly clueless to the security threat that was himself.  
“Right, just please don’t call him rocket man…” Omarosa sighed.  
“Alright then how about communist Kim?” He tried.  
“No. Just Kim Jong Un. Okay?   
“Booo, you’re no fun!” Donald said and hung up.  
She stared at the phone for a few seconds, contemplating how she’d spend the last days of her life, before they’d all be burning in a nuclear storm. She snapped out of it when her phone started ringing.  
“How is the trip going?” Melania asked.  
“You think he’s gonna screw it up?” Omarosa sighed.  
Melania instantly knew what she was referring to.  
“Why do you think I stayed home,” she chuckled. “When does your flight leave?”   
“I’ll be on Air Force Two, with Pence, and some other staffers,” Omarosa said. “We’ll probably be leaving in about an hour. I’m already on my way there.”  
“Alright, good luck!” Melania said, finishing up the call.

“You’ll be leaving today…” Justin sighed.  
They were walking along the coast, with the sun shining almost too brightly above them.  
“Justin,” Emmanuel said looking at him. “We’re both leaving today.”  
“I know, I know.” Justin answered. “I mean you’re leaving for France.”  
“And your point is…?”   
“Well we won’t see each other for a long time,” Justin sighed.  
“Yeah, remembrance day of WW2,” Emmanuel answered. “In november.”   
“And that’s a really long time!” Justin complained. “Aren’t you going to miss me?”  
“We’re adults,” Emmanuel answered. Seeing how Justin’s face dropped, like a lost puppy, he quickly added; “But yeah sure, of course I’ll uh… miss you.”  
Justin flashed a huge smile. “I knew it!”  
Emmanuel returned the smile, but more restrained. “You’re like a child,” he chuckled.  
There was a moment of silence, where nothing but the waves could be heard, and they leaned in. Just before getting too close, Emmanuel cleared his throat, gesturing to the security personnel behind them.   
“Right…” Justin sighed. “Always ten feet behind us,” he smiled. “This might be the last time before the end of the world though.”  
“I take it you don’t have much faith in Trump,” Emmanuel said, as they continued walking.  
“Well…” Justin started. “He almost started a nuclear war on Twitter, I mean who knows what’ll happen when they meet?”  
Emmanuel paused and blinked a few times. “You don’t think he’ll..”  
“Oh he’s definitely gonna compare hands,” Justin said, finishing his sentence.   
“But that doesn’t necessarily mean the end of the world. Donald is a terrible negotiator, but he’d never…”   
“Sell us out? Pull out of the KORUS agreement? Insult him by comparing their nuclear weapons? Probably.”  
“Oh god, we’re all gonna die,” Emmanuel concluded.  
“Not necessarily,” Justin shrugged.  
“We are definitely all going to die,” Emmanuel repeated.  
“If we think about it logically, we’re not all gonna die… just some of us,” Justin said.  
“We’re so screwed…” Emmanuel sighed.

“So screwed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof nothing interesting in this one, but hopefully the next chapter will be more exciting!


	12. Singapore bilateral summit part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *smut warning*

Singapore bilateral summit 2018

Donald was walking around in his hotel room, with a bucket of KFC. He was wearing a robe, made of shiny golden fabric, reaching his thighs. He paced around for a bit with excitement, over how he was going to meet little rocket man. Suddenly a familiar sound struck his ears. He sighed and hurried to the bed where his phone was lying on top of the covers. He jumped into the bed and picked up the phone.  
“Who is this, and why are you calling me?” He asked.  
“Donald, please tell me this is a secure phone…” Justin answered.  
“Justin? Believe me, I’m a genius. This phone is totally secure!” Trump said, waving his arms around like whenever he spoke.  
“Do you know how to handle tomorrow?” Justin sighed.  
“Are you jealous because I’m gonna meet little rocket man and you’re not?” Donald smirked.  
“Not even a little bit…” Justin cringed. “Just don’t call him that when you meet him.”  
“Why not? You sound like Omarosa! You guys are so boring, so boring folks. Okay how about this, I’ve been working hard on it so you can’t say no! Communist Kim.”  
“No,” Justin answered immediately. “Don’t call him that.”  
“You didn’t even think about it! Give it a chance!” Donald pleaded.  
“I’m gonna go with no,” Justin answered. “Can’t you just for once act presidential?”  
“Fine, but if he blows up the world it’s your fault,” Donald stated.  
“Just promise me you won’t provoke him or give him a stupid nickname.”  
“My nicknames aren’t stupid!” Donald whined.  
“Promise me!” Justin ordered.  
“Alright, fine!” Donald said, and hung up.

After ending the call, Justin felt slightly relieved, perhaps the world wouldn’t end. He yawned, and stretched a few times, before getting up and heading down the hallway. As he neared the bathroom, he unbuttoned his shirt, and unzipped his pants. When he’d found a towel, he then undressed himself completely. He turned on the water, and closed his eyes, feeling the hot water running through his hair, and down his skin. His pulse slowed down, and his tense muscles loosened. It felt like forever ago he and Emmanuel had showered together the night of their first time. His mind started circling, as Emmanuel continued to be the center of his thoughts. Not more than a few weeks after becoming president, Emmanuel had already stood up to several world leaders including Vladimir Putin, to defend minorities. It was… really something. Justin licked his lips slowly. Emmanuel was… really something. He swore at himself for losing control whenever it came to Emmanuel. His lower parts were twitching, as images of Emmanuel’s wet naked body invaded his mind. He hesitantly reached down, sliding his fingers up his inner thigh. He had become fully erect, and there was nothing else to do but ride it out. He let out a longing sigh, then shamelessly started stroking his member. It didn’t take long before he had turned into a moaning mess, struggling to keep himself on his feet. He clenched his jaw, adjusting the pace to keep himself on the verge of orgasming, while not entirely relieving himself. Echoes of Emmanuel screaming his name repeatedly made him shiver and tremble. The warmth of the water soothed his senses, making him overly sensitive to the point where he could easily lose himself to the pleasure. He leaned his forehead against the marble tiles of the wall, to steady himself. He started using both hands, which made the pleasure all the more intense. Sharp pants, and desperate moans escaped his lips, as he imagined fucking Emmanuel against the marble tiles. This could’ve easily been the end of the world, and Justin would’ve ended his days satisfied.

Emmanuel woke up roughly, with a pounding headache. He sat up slowly, rubbing his forehead. He sighed and got out of bed, to fetch himself a Xanax. When he had gotten dressed and ready for a long day, he turned on the tv, only to discover that he hadn’t been paying attention. Flashing across the screen was an image of Trump shaking hands with Kim Jong Un. Before he could contemplate it further, his phone started ringing.  
“Not dead yet!” Justin cheered.  
“Do you remember when two world leaders didn’t mean possibly getting nuked?” Emmanuel sighed.  
“Yup. Good times, good times,” Justin answered. “I uh… I wanted to ask…”  
“Yes?” Emmanuel asked.  
“Well, I thought that perhaps we could… meet up before the WWII remembrance ceremony. It’s just so far away, I don’t think I can wait…”  
Emmanuel’s cheeks flared up, and he couldn’t help but smile a little bit.  
“How would we do that? It’s too risky, we’ll just be spotted.”  
“I guess that’s true…” Justin sighed.  
Emmanuel would be lying if he said he wasn’t at his limit as well.  
“Just be patient,” Emmanuel said, composing himself.  
“Easier said than done…” Justin answered. “It’s worth the wait though.”  
“Good boy,” Emmanuel answered. “Perhaps we’ll be alive by then.”  
Justin chuckled. “Hopefully.”

Donald and other US representatives were about to sit down across from Kim Jong Un, and the people chosen by him to attend. The photographer was snapping a few shots.  
“Make sure we look nice and handsome and thin,” Donald said.  
He then instantly realized that he had basically just called a dictator fat. But then again; it wasn’t the first time. 

“Why can’t America be like North Korea?!” Donald whined, when lunch was over.  
“Sir… you’re kidding right?” Omarosa sighed.  
“Kim is amazing! He doesn’t have to worry about bad press,” Donald praised.  
“Because he kills whoever opposes him…” Omarosa added.  
“He’s got bodyguards in nice suits running next to his limousine,” Donald continued. “There aren’t any democrats!”  
“There’s no democracy in the first place!” Omarosa sighed.  
“He’s so young! He came to power at 25! I should have done that!” Donald mused.  
“Again, they don’t have democracy,” Omarosa argued. “And might I add, that’s the dumbest thing you’ve said… this minute.”  
“Boo! You’re no fun. I’ll go talk to Kim instead,” Donald whined.  
Before Omarosa had a chance to respond, he was already gone.

After spending time getting to know Kim the best he could, it was time to go home, and Donald felt proud and accomplished. The summit was in his opinion a success, that no other president had even dared to attempt.

He felt like a king

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some jump scare masturbation and me not giving a shit about time zones...


	13. Confidential

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Found out the NATO summit comes before the WWII Remembrance day, so I moved ahead to the (Completely fictional) event that I had planned.  
> Anyway hope it's not too messy lol

Confidential 

The act of terror. To deviate from society’s definition of morality. To deviate from all ethics, innocence, righteousness; for the purpose of causing sufferance. There’s a word for someone who cares for no one but themselves. Those who gain pleasure from causing other people pain. Those who live to enjoy the sight and sound of hurt on display. 

Terrorist 

==========================

Emmanuel opened his eyes reluctantly, as he heard the sound of his phone ringing. It wasn’t unusual to get calls in the middle of the night, at least in his position. Of course; that didn’t make it any less annoying. He pushed away the thought of simply drowning the phone in the glass of water sitting on the nightstand. If it turned out to be Justin calling him, Emmanuel would be sure to kill him next time they saw each other. He grabbed the phone and answered with a frown on his face.   
“Mr. president, sorry to disturb you… but I need you to be dressed and ready in 20 minutes.”  
“What? Did something happen?” Emmanuel asked, trying to put the pieces together.  
“You’ll be briefed on the jet sir.”  
“Right, I’ll be ready in a few minutes,” Emmanuel answered and ended the call.   
He got dressed and gathered what was necessary, before hurrying out the door. 

“Did you turn off your phone? You’re not supposed to do that.”  
Justin rolled over still half asleep. “Emmanuel?” He mumbled, forcing his eyes open.  
“No, it’s me Ray. Why would you think…?” Ray said, feeling strangely confused. “Never mind, you need to get up.”  
Justin groaned, pulling the covers over his head; as if that would make him go away.  
“You didn’t answer the phone. I’m here to get you ready, it’s urgent,” Ray said, gathering Justin’s things. He pulled a suit out of the closet, and threw it on the bed next to the blanket burrito aka Justin.   
“Get up already,” Ray sighed.  
“Fine,” Justin answered. “Where the hell are we going?”  
Ray looked at his phone, as he sat down on the bed next to Justin. “I can’t tell you the location. Even I don’t know where we’re going.”  
“So you’re taking me somewhere, but you don’t know where…” Justin concluded.  
Ray nodded, and got up. He grabbed the bag, and left the room to wait outside, until Justin had gotten dressed.

A loud knock on the door made Donald flinch, and when he failed to answer; the door was opened roughly. He jumped and instantly fell out of bed.  
“No collusion!?” He burst out, as soon as he came to his senses.  
“Sir,” a voice said, rushing into the room. “Mr. president we’ve received information that is strictly confidential. You’ll be leaving on Air Force 1 in less than an hour.”  
“I don’t work at night, go away.... uh… who are you exactly?” Trump asked, trying to recognize the person in front of him.  
“I’m from the pentagon sir. I’ll be escorting you to the jet.”  
“Where are we going?” Trump asked, with a hazy expression on his face.  
“Iceland sir. You need to get dressed. I’ll be waiting outside with the rest of the security personnel.”  
“Great I’ll just tweet about it,” Trump said, reaching for his phone.  
“NO SIR!” He burst out, and quickly launched for the phone. “I’ll be keeping this until we’re on the plane.”  
Donald muttered a bit as he got up, and started getting ready.

Soon all three of them were headed to the same location, without really knowing why, or what for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been so busy and unmotivated, so this chapter had to be pretty short, but I promise to post more often, though I doubt anyone is still following at this point. I definitely intend to finish this story, and it's gonna be a lot easier now that I can create something completely fictional, that doesn't require me to do a whole lot of research and planning. From this point on the story is going to be both fictional and pretty unrealistic. Hope I'm not spoiling too much <3


	14. Iceland

“Now can you tell me where the f-”  
“Iceland,” Ray said, cutting Justin off.  
They had just boarded the plane, and surrounding them were countless intelligence officials, and heads of different departments of defense.  
“Did something happen?” Justin asked, already getting ahead of himself; imagining the worst.  
“It’s complicated, and I haven’t been given that much information. All I know is that we’re headed to a summit which has been organized only a few hours ago. It’s hosted by the United Nations security council.”  
“But then why aren’t we headed for the U.N general assembly in New York?” Justin asked, sounding slightly more frantic than intended.  
“It’s supposed to be a location that is in no way suspected,” Ray said, keeping his eyes glued to the window. “Off the radar.”  
“But if it’s the U.N then how many nations will be attending?” Justin asked, wondering if he’d be seeing Emmanuel, and under what circumstances.  
“Not all of them obviously. Only the ones specifically asked to be there. As I said, my knowledge is limited on this topic. I know for a fact that all the G7 members will be attending.”   
Justin took a few seconds to process everything before slowly nodding.  
“Don’t worry, you’ll get the entire piece when we get there,” Ray said, as silence fell over them.

Emmanuel had just gotten off the plane, no longer feeling sleepy. Normally the arrival of a world leader would be carefully planned, and carried out; this was quite different though. Everywhere he looked there seemed to be chaos and confusion, which only furthered his suspicion that something bigger was underway. As he had been informed the summit had only been planned hours before he was contacted, but even that wouldn’t explain the lack of order in which the arrivals were carried out.  
before he knew it, he and the rest of his officials had been rushed inside a row of black cars with toned windows. He wasn’t entirely sure where they were headed, but the security was overwhelming, which meant that other attendants would be following the same route.   
They continued to drive, perhaps a longer distance than expected, but finally arrived at the destination; Perlan, Reykjavik. It was an odd location for the occasion, but then again, it had all been planned last minute. Perlan; a beautiful building embellished with a huge glass dome, in which dining would take place. Also home of a man made ice cave, and a cliff habitating a vast amount of atlantic puffins. It was more of a museum than a venue suited for the hosting of countless world leaders. Nevertheless, that was the location at which the summit would take place.  
After entering the building, he and his staff were lead to the planetarium, where presumably shows were held to display the beautiful icelandic experience. Some world leaders had already arrived, while others were rushed in through a large set of doors. Not long after that - when all attendants had been seated - Members of the security council were to begin the summit with a briefing. Emmanuel searched the room with his eyes, but Justin didn’t seem to be anywhere. Of course it would be a challenge spotting a specific individual in a dimly lit room with that many people, and when the sound of a microphone rang through the entire planetarium; Emmanuel diverted his focus elsewhere.

“We are honored to have you all here at the Perlan. First I’d like to explain why you have all been gathered here. This destination has been picked exclusively for its political history, which it does not have. The Perlan is off the radar, and therefore perfectly suited to host this summit. Also it is one of the few buildings capable of hosting this vast amount of people, in such short notice. Now to the matter at hand… there’s no appropriate way to say this but… the U.N general assembly in New York has received a message, or rather… a threat. The sender is none other than Abu Bakr Al-Baghdadi the leader of ISIS.”  
All through the room were gasps and sighs, followed by whispers as if it was a classroom filled with teenage girls.   
Justin turned his head to look at Ray who with clenched jaw, heavy breathing and steel like eyes; kept silent. It didn’t seem like the right time to jump to conclusions, and so Justin let it go, and continued to listen.

“You may have noticed that not all U.N nations have been asked to join. This is due to the confidentiality that this summit consists of, and a matter of relevance. The countries mentioned in the video message we’ve received are the following: Belgium, Canada, China, Denmark, Egypt, Finland, France, Germany, Iceland, India, Ireland, Italy, Jordan, Luxembourg, Mexico, Morocco, Netherlands, Norway, Poland, Russia, Spain, Sweden, United Kingdom and United States Of America. ISIS claims to have planned attacks possibly carried out in the areas just mentioned. We have no solid evidence that these attacks are legitimate, but as the message came from the leader of ISIS directly, we are inclined to take it seriously. The severity of this situation has been confirmed by a warning attack, that took place 8 hours ago, in Saitama; Japan. The next attack will be carried out in 4 hours if their demands have not been fulfilled. These demands are complicated. ISIS wants all troops pulled out of both Iraq and Syria. There can also be no retaliation when ISIS plans to retake Raqqa, and the rest of their former territory. They will also be invading the entirety of Syria and Iraq. Now, there’s several humanitarian laws that prevent us from following their demands, even if we decided to do so. In order to reach a common agreement between the nations involved, we’ve scheduled 5 minute statements for each representative, meaning highest authorities. You will now be given an hour to prepare your individual statement, where you will present your opinion on this matter. Please help yourself to the open bar and restaurant.”

When the briefing was over, all world leaders were headed to the dining area, for some much needed refreshments.   
“Emmanuel!” Justin called out, when he spotted him.   
He hurried up beside him, pushing through the crowd, until they were next to each other. It seemed like a crazy situation, because it was.   
“I’m… happy that I get to see you, even if it’s under these circumstances,” Justin said, making sure that no one but Emmanuel would be able to hear him.   
He kept looking straight ahead, and so did Emmanuel. A few seconds went by, with silence calm enough to soothe the atmosphere. Emmanuel slowly reached out, hesitantly tracing his fingers along the back of Justin’s hand, before taking it in his own, with a firm grip, as if something could separate them at any moment.  
“Justin…” he sighed, without letting go.  
Justin felt the warmth of having Emmanuel so close to him after being apart. He felt stupid. Stupid for being so dependant on Emmanuel. So captivated, entranced by and hopelessly addicted to the feelings stirring up in him whenever Emmanuel was around.  
“Trust me,” he whispered, and started making his way through the crowd, pulling Emmanuel with him.

“This won’t take long.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up soon. Also I recommend looking up “Perlan Iceland” to get a sense of the atmosphere and well it’s a really beautiful building.


	15. Fluffy orange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note that none of this could ever happen in real life and at this point I’m just having way too much fun

Justin lead Emmanuel towards an empty hallway, still keeping a tight grip around his hand. When they were far enough away, and out of sight, he let go of Emmanuel’s hand.  
“We have to get back…” Emmanuel said, focusing on the task at hand.  
Justin looked at him with a desperate expression. He leaned further in, backing Emmanuel to the wall, until there were almost no space left between them.   
“Don’t go yet…” Justin sighed, placing his hands on Emmanuel’s hips.   
A few seconds went by where their lips were hovering around each other, before finally clashing. How long had it been since the last time they felt the warmth of each other’s bodies? To Justin it felt like years. He couldn’t help but greedily deepen the kiss, dominating Emmanuel’s mouth with his tongue. His composure was visibly unraveling, and he had to stop himself before his body started demanding something more than just a kiss. However it was too late, and as their lips parted, his trousers were painfully tight.  
Before he could react, the sudden sound of footsteps hastily grew louder.  
“Shit!” Emmanuel muttered, grabbing Justin’s wrist and frantically searched for a way out. At the last second he spotted a utility closet, with just enough room for both of them. He dragged Justin inside, entering himself before carefully shutting the door. If they kept the lights out, whoever was on the outside wouldn’t be able to spot them through the window.  
“There you go again, spying on me just because I’m meeting new people!” Donald complained, stopping just across from the closet.   
Justin gasped, and Emmanuel instantly shushed him. They were in an awkward position, pressed up against each other. Justin behind Emmanuel.  
“My fluffy orange I was just keeping you safe,” Putin answered, reaching out for Donald’s tiny hand. “Forgive me?”  
Justin immediately felt completely turned off, which made standing behind Emmanuel a lot easier.  
“Alright I forgive you, but only because I want to be re-elected in 2020,” Donald pouted. “And because you’re my vanilla puttin.”  
Both Emmanuel and Justin couldn’t help but gag, wondering when they’d be able to escape the cramped closet and receive the professional help they would be needing.  
“Yes my chubby orange sorbet,” Putin answered.  
“Let’s go to the restaurant in the dome thingy,” Donald said, with excessive hand gestures. “Maybe they have hamberders!”  
Right when it looked like they were about to leave, Putin turned to the utility closet, which made Emmanuel flinch.  
“Boys, why don’t you join us? Isn’t it time to come out of closet?” Putin mused, with his Russian serial killer accent.  
“How did he???” Justin hissed, still not sure whether or not leaving the closet would be a death sentence.  
“Who are you talking to?” Trump asked, impatiently.  
“Shit…” Emmanuel whispered, feeling obligated to step out.  
He opened the door with a sigh, and carefully approached Putin, with Justin right behind him.  
“Why is everyone spying on me?” Trump whined. “It’s like when Obama wiretapped my office, really, I swear folks.”  
“Ey puttin, please get a hold of your fluffy orange would ya!” Justin teased.  
“What are you doing?!” Emmanuel hissed. “I don’t want to mysteriously die in a car crash!”  
“Relax, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done it long time ago,” Putin calmly replied. “How about we make deal?”  
“What’s he talking about…” Justin whispered to Emmanuel.  
“What do you think he’s talking about!” Emmanuel asked rhetorically.  
Justin rolled his eyes, as he crossed his arms.  
“It is very simple. You stay silent and in return we do same,” Putin said, with a shrug.  
It really wasn’t the right time to argue about such things, and they all knew that.   
“Fine, just… how long have you known? About us.” Emmanuel asked, as Donald fidgeted with his abnormally long tie.  
“I’m Vladimir Putin,” he answered. “I know everything.”  
“Right…” Emmanuel answered, chills running down his spine.  
“But if you really curious, pretty boy Justin over here keeps staring at your ass,” Putin added, as Donald absently nodded behind him.  
“Oh come on!” Justin argued. “I do not.”  
“It’s not important, we need to get back. We’ve got work to do,” Emmanuel said, gesturing for them to leave.

They all sat down at a rectangular table, with a pile of papers, pencils and documents. Putin poured vodka in each of their glasses, and downed his without any reaction. Justin downed his as well with a slight wince as the burning liquor ran down his throat. Emmanuel eyed him with a frown on his face.  
“Take it easy on the alcohol, you know what happens when you drink…” He said.  
“That was one time!” Justin answered. “Are you gonna bring it up every single minute?”  
“Oh I don’t know, are you gonna get drunk off your ass every single minute?” Emmanuel argued back.  
Trump and Putin were quietly sitting across from them, seemingly uninterested. Donald was sketching in the notepad meant for drafting his statement.  
“What are you drawing Donnie?” Putin asked, taking his shot of vodka since as most people would know; Donald Trump doesn’t drink, which was probably for the best.  
“A hamberder,” He answered, not taking his eyes off the paper.  
“I can’t believe this manchild is the president of the United States…” Justin sighed, on the verge of a facepalm.  
“Just focus on your statement,” Emmanuel answered, tapping his pen on the surface of the table. “All of you,” He said, crumbling the drawing Donald was so absorbed in.  
“This is stupid, why do I have to do words!” Donald complained. “It’s like being in school again! So sad folks, so sad!”  
No one bothered to respond, and soon they were all working on their statements.

Emmanuel walked onto the improvised stage, with the written statement in his hand. His eyes met Justin’s, and he suddenly felt calmer.  
“We cannot sacrifice innocent people, even if it is to protect our own. We have seen countless of times that giving in to the temptation of selfishness only causes discord and consequences for everyone involved. The amount of refugees would become erratic, if ISIS were to reclaim these areas. I suggest we increase security in the most populated and risk stricken areas. I know that now is not the time to bring up the migration crisis, or perhaps it is exactly the time to bring it up. While we are all panicking at the thought of terrorists - Even just the word - innocent people are living alongside them, doing their best to survive. The truth is… we only care if we are the target, though civilians of Syria and Iraq are living as targets. That’s called selfishness. While Turkey and Lebanon struggle to bear the heavy burden of taking care of the victims of war, we are looking the other way, though we have the resources to aid these countries. Yet we only focus on keeping them out. All I have to say is… maybe we should seek to take precautionary measures against these hostile forces, and rebuild these nations, and end these wars. ”  
After some other statements Justin got up to present his, and Emmanuel gave him the same comforting look that Justin had given him.  
“I don’t believe that selling other countries out, to benefit ourselves, will ever be acceptable. Nor will it ultimately solve the problem we are facing. If ISIS reclaims the land they are demanding, their targets will increase as well as their resources. The threat they pose will increase if we give in to them. we do not have a guarantee that these attacks will not be carried out either way. We cannot trust terrorists, and we shouldn’t. It is however, crucial that we trust each other. Our main priority has to be saving as many lives as possible. We have to protect Syria and Iraq.”  
Putin also made a very short statement, making his intentions very clear.  
“We do not negotiate with terrorists.”  
Donald Trump’s statement wasn’t exactly a surprise, though not any less tiresome and obviously improvised than usual.  
“I am such a good president, perhaps - some have said - even the best of them all. We have defeated ISIS, Obama couldn’t do it but I did it, and I don’t get why we’re even taking this so called “Threat” seriously! It’s totally fake news. By the way, I have accomplished so much! more than Obama, so much more.”

After all statements had been made, the leaders were again free to roam the building, as U.N security officials started drafting a proposal for a mutually agreeable procedure. Soon people were scattered around the interior, and Emmanuel simply followed the stream of people through the hallways, until Justin dragged him to the side and through a plain white door. As soon as they were inside, Justin closed the door and carefully locked it as well.  
“What’re you…” Emmanuel trailed off, when Justin took off his jacket.   
“I want to do it,” he answered.  
“You want to do it here!? Are you out of your mind?!” 

“Yes,” Justin answered. “Yes I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve sacrificed myself to the ship O.O
> 
> Btw my insta is political_ships. It’s mainly just Macron Trudeau memes


	16. What are we?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’ve been warned, let’s get our freak on!
> 
> One of the many songs I listened to while writing this:
> 
> https://youtu.be/eEPtVm8qP5A
> 
> Don’t judge me lol

“You want to do it here!? Are you out of your mind?!”  
“Yes,” Justin answered. “Yes I am.”  
“Please tell me you’re joking,” Emmanuel answered, taking a few steps backwards.  
“Why not, there’s a couch over there, it looks like a pretty decent office.”  
“That’s not the point, we’re in the middle of an extremely important summit, and we can’t just do it in public places. This is someone’s office!” Emmanuel hissed. “We don’t even have…”  
“Actually,” Justin said as Emmanuel trailed off.  
He searched his pocket and pulled up a condom.  
“No,” Emmanuel instantly replied. “No, Justin please put that away.”  
“We’ve got time to kill, and are you really gonna tell me that… you haven’t been thinking about it?”  
“Even if I had, it’s not appropriate and you know it,” Emmanuel answered, leaning back against the desk.  
Justin sat down in the couch, leaning forward with his arms resting on his knees.  
“Then let’s just talk for a little while,” Justin proposed, as he observed Emmanuel.  
“Yeah, sure… about what?” He answered, noticing at the same time that the light wasn’t turned on, and it had begun to darken outside.  
“What are we?” Justin asked, nonchalantly.  
“Excuse me?” Emmanuel scoffed, turning his head to avoid further tension.  
“You heard me. I want to know the definition of our relationship.”  
“Justin please, I can’t focus on work when you ask me such trivial questions,” Emmanuel snapped.  
He didn’t want to get into it, mostly due to his uncertainty of his own feelings. Whatever Justin was wishing for him to say, could be different from what Emmanuel himself was thinking. Almost as if there was a risk attached to answering, and perhaps even a wrong answer. What was he even supposed to say? He hadn’t given it much thought, at least not in a sense that he’d be able to define their relationship.  
“Fine then what am I supposed to do?”  
Justin snapped back. “Because right now we’ve got everything on the line, and we don’t even know what we are!”  
He got up and took a few steps closer to Emmanuel.  
“Haven’t you even considered what we’re risking our reputations for?  
Justin was asking some very relevant questions, which of course made it even harder for Emmanuel to avoid answering. Even worse; Justin was right. They were both taking a serious risk, and for what? What’s the definition of a relationship in which you’re willing to bet everything?  
“Justin…” Emmanuel said softly, as he approached him.  
There was only one way to get out of having “the talk” or at least postpone it.  
He leaned in, and placed his lips along Justin’s jawline, resting his hands on his shoulders. Kissed that sensitive spot just under Justin’s ear, that he had gotten to know so well. Such an easy trigger to pull.  
“Wait…” Justin pleaded, feeling the surge in every single limb.  
Emmanuel however, kept going. He started sliding his hand down Justin’s chest, pausing when he got to the belt of his trousers. And then further down, brushing his fingertips against Justin’s inner thighs. With his other hand he moved up the back of justin’s neck, and played with his curls. Emmanuel knew that if he kept this up, there really wasn’t going to be a “talk”.  
Justin’s breath was growing rigid, and he felt the warmth gather in his chest, and travel throughout his entire body.  
“I thought you said we couldn’t do it here.”  
Emmanuel leaned in further, his lips brushing against Justin’s ear.  
“Do... You want to talk or… do you want to fuck?” Emmanuel whispered, already unbuckling Justin’s belt.  
It was quiet on the other side of the door, which meant that no one would hear them. Quite tempting. And Justin gave in, as if he had forgotten what they were even discussing. He wrapped his arm around Emmanuel’s waist, and firmly grabbed his upper thigh. Emmanuel let out a slight gasp, both his hands on Justin’s shoulders. It was pretty clear already that Justin had decided to take control, although they both had a habit of being dominant. Emmanuel hesitantly brought his lips closer to Justin’s, as their hips were clashing, and their bodies started getting restless and impatient. Emmanuel pushed Justin backwards into the couch, and started unbuttoning his shirt. Justin reached out to pull him closer, then working his belt while kissing the skin just under his belly button. He pulled at the waistband of Emmanuel’s boxers with his teeth, and drew him onto his lap. He placed his hand on Emmanuel’s lower back and started sliding it further down before Emmanuel grabbed his wrist.  
“I need to be able to do my job after this, so don’t be too rough.”  
Justin nodded, although he had absolutely no intention of holding back.

What time was it?  
Just one of the many questions Emmanuel had trouble answering, and probably also the most irrelevant one. His consciousness kept slipping away, while his entire body kept shifting from pleasure to pain. He was clinging onto Justin, who was keeping him steady by holding his hips. Emmanuel’s skin felt painfully hot, and he was completely out of breath. Justin was relentlessly thrusting into him, hitting all the right spots.  
“Justin!” He managed to whimper, before climaxing, as waves of pleasure traveled throughout his body and made him tremble and shiver. Just as he was about to drift off with exhaustion; Justin continued moving his hips, this time even rougher and at a faster pace.  
“I can’t…” Emmanuel panted, trying to regain the slightest bit of composure.  
“Just hold on until I’ve finished,” Justin said, kissing his forehead.  
Emmanuel felt like he was losing his mind, helplessly digging his nails into Justin’s shoulders. He suddenly realized how loud he was being, and how shameless he sounded. He quickly covered his mouth, and clenched his jaw with a slight whimper. Justin hissed desperately when Emmanuel tightened around him, and arched his back as he climaxed. Listening to Justin’s reaction, pushed Emmanuel over the edge, and he came for the second time. He collapsed completely, immediately slipping out of consciousness again.

Worn out, and fulfilled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon


	17. Out of character

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poorly written feels. Buckle up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really late with this chapter, gah I’ve been so busy but here it is.
> 
> Song on my mind:  
> https://youtu.be/rxCmlwShe28  
> Pretty fitting tbh

Emmanuel was still asleep, sitting on Justin’s lap, when some time had passed. Justin had his arms locked around him, supporting his weight. He felt pretty guilty for having worn Emmanuel out, after being told not to. Even worse; He’d be responsible for cleaning up the mess.  
“Stop sulking, you got what you wanted,” Emmanuel mumbled.  
“I thought you were sleeping…” Justin answered, biting his lip.  
“Yeah well, my ass hurts, thanks to someone.”  
Justin let out an exaggerated sigh. “Well since you are awake, we should talk.”  
Emmanuel immediately flinched, as if he hadn’t expected Justin to be so stubborn; when was he not though?  
“We’re not gonna do that, and definitely not after I let you break my back,” Emmanuel scoffed.  
“What do you mean ‘let you’?” Justin asked, as Emmanuel started buttoning his shirt. “You were the one who came at me as if your life depended on it.”  
Emmanuel glared at him, then got to his feet, while hissing at the sharp pain in his lower back.  
“Don’t exaggerate, I just took initiative.”  
Justin rolled his eyes, of course as Emmanuel wasn’t looking, in case he was even more agitated than he let show.  
“Do you want to talk, or do you want to fuck?” Justin imitated him, as he wiped off his stomach.  
“Justin, where are you going with this,” Emmanuel asked rhetorically. “Can’t you just let it go!”  
“Sure when you tell me why the fuck you’re so afraid of answering one single question!” Justin snapped, his voice reaching a volume which could probably be heard on the other side of the door.  
“Just stop obsessing over irrelevant things like the definition of a relationship!” Emmanuel snapped back.   
“Right, because I’m just irrelevant to you,” Justin scoffed.  
“That’s not what I said. You’re twisting my words. I’m trying to be rational, while you’re only hearing what you want to hear.”   
“What I want to hear, is that you actually care,” Justin said in a condescending tone.  
“But I don’t! I don’t care about some stupid definition!” Emmanuel answered.  
“It’s not about the definition, it’s about the fact that I feel so fucking pathetic chasing after you, when all you do is express just how little you care!” Justin burst out, with an expression Emmanuel had never seen before. “It hurts,” he continued. “When I’m with you I feel so blessed, but I know all you can think about is how you can’t wait to get away from me. I feel like some kind of nuisance. And when you say things like ‘let you’ I can’t help but wonder if I’m forcing you to do these things that you don’t want to do…”  
Emmanuel felt an urge to deny everything Justin had said, but at the same time he didn’t even know where to start. He was horrified learning that Justin thought Emmanuel had been secretly spiteful of him. How long had he been carrying that feeling of being unwanted?   
“Please tell me that’s not what you’ve been thinking,” Emmanuel said, with a soft voice. “Please Justin…”  
“You said it yourself, it’s not the right time for this,” Justin said and turned around.   
He reached out and unlocked the door, slamming it shut behind him. And it was quiet. Emmanuel stood alone, staring at the spot in front of him where Justin had been just seconds before. The only source of light seeping in through the crack underneath the door.   
What now?  
Emmanuel instinctively charged for the door, carelessly leaving his jacket behind, and the top buttons of his shirt open. Justin was at the end of the hallway, which was completely empty and silent, making him wonder if they had been called back. He walked fast, almost running when he reached Justin, then grabbed his wrist.   
“You don’t get to walk away, not after making such a big deal out of this.”  
Justin didn’t look at him, but also couldn’t bring himself to pull away his hand.  
“How could I let you see such a shameful side of me, touch me in ways no one else has, make me lose control, be on my mind when you’re nowhere in sight… if I didn’t want you near me every second of every day?” Emmanuel said, feeling slightly exposed after telling Justin those things.  
“What do you mean shameful side?” Justin asked, unable to figure out what Emmanuel was referring to.  
“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. When I’m clinging onto you, and screaming your name. Letting you see me in my helpless, pathetic, disgraceful state. Don’t you think I feel humiliated and shameful…” Emmanuel said, more flustered than Justin had ever seen him before.  
“But why would you feel those things, when you know I adore every side of you. When you’re disgraceful, defiled, helpless and shameful… that’s when I cherish you the most.”  
Emmanuel took a step closer, still holding onto Justin’s wrist.  
“Then you’d know, that when you’re stubborn, childish, possessive and impatient, that’s when I like you more than all of peoplekind.”  
Justin couldn’t help but smile.  
“This is stupid, look, I’m sorry…” Justin said, with a sigh. “I’m gonna have to quote every cliche romantic comedy; I don’t care what we are, as long as we’re together.”  
Emmanuel chuckled, and reached out, resting his hand against Justin’s cheek.  
“Please don’t ever say that again.”  
Justin placed his hands on Emmanuel’s hips, drawing him closer, while leaning in.  
“Deal.”  
He closed the gap between them and pressed his lips against Emmanuel’s, kissing him slowly.  
“Why the hell are you guys here without any protection?!” Ray shouted from the other end of the hallway.  
Emmanuel immediately flinched, and Justin awkwardly stepped away, clearing his throat, as Ray walked up to them.  
“We actually did use protection,” Justin said without thinking, and Emmanuel quickly slapped the back of his head, giving him the side eye.  
“Isn’t it your job??? Where did everyone go?” Emmanuel asked.  
“I’ve been searching the entire building for you brats!” Ray answered, expressing his annoyance.  
“Brats? We’re older than you,” Justin pointed out.  
“Not now Justin,” Emmanuel hissed, gesturing for Ray to go on.  
“I think something’s wrong. Even the empty parts of the building should be supervised by security officials. So far I’ve come across several guards who’ve strayed from their positions. Even this summit in itself is just… out of character.”  
Emmanuel felt shivers run down his spine.  
“You’re right. It’s irrational to gather this many world leaders in one spot, especially on such short notice. Even more so when the agenda revolves around a threat like terrorism…” Emmanuel added, with a troubled expression.  
“We need to inform the others. If even a single piece of information was leaked… we’d be walking targets.” Justin said, instinctively looking around.  
“I don’t think-” Ray began, but got cut off by a sharp sound, echoing through the building.   
“Was that…” Emmanuel asked, trying to locate the source of the sound.  
Ray pulled out his weapon.

“A gun shot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, and well I’m basically dead inside so writing tha feels is not something I’m good at lol.


	18. Let the massacre begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short but hopefully not too dull

“A gunshot.”

“Wait, no hold on, that can’t be!” Justin said slightly frantic. “It could’ve been anything. We don’t know.”  
A wave of screams, loud arguing in different languages and the sound of objects crashing into the ground, washed through the hallway, leaving all of them stunned.  
“Scratch that…” Justin sighed, as the noise grew even louder.   
“I need to escort you out immediately,” Ray said, scanning the area, in search of an exit, which frustratingly enough were nowhere in sight.  
“There was a window in that office!” Justin burst out, as if he’d gotten the single best idea for their escape.  
“Justin,” Emmanuel said calmly.  
“What?”  
“WE’RE ON THE TOP FLOOR!!!”   
“Oh right,” Justin answered, realizing the problem with his plan.  
“The nearest emergency exit is that way,” Ray said, already heading towards the sound.  
“Are you crazy???” Justin yelled, as he and Emmanuel caught up to him. “Haven’t you ever seen a horror movie?! You never follow the goddamn sound, unless you actually want to die!”  
“This isn’t a horror movie, now come on,” Ray answered, pointing his gun. “Just stay behind me, and do as I say.”  
Neither of them argued, and as they were walking, Emmanuel’s mind got a little less cluttered, and there was room for worrying about something else. How long had Ray been standing there. How much did he see? Was this the end of their careers? If Ray decided to report them, it could surely be the end of their political lives.  
The door in front of them suddenly sprung open, and a relatively chubby man stumbled towards them, blood seeping from a wound on his forehead.  
“Hjælp mig!”  
“The prime minister of Denmark…” Justin gasped, as Emmanuel hurried to his side.  
“You two stay here and deal with that,” Ray said, heading for the door. “I’m gonna go see what’s happening.”  
Justin helped Emmanuel guide the injured man to the floor, resting against the wall.   
“It’s pretty deep…” Emmanuel mumbled, as he inspected the wound.   
The laceration ran from his hairline to the gap between his eyebrows. Justin loosened the tie from the prime ministers neck, and wrapped it over his forehead to stop the bleeding. Just as he finished, the door swung open once again, and Emmanuel instinctively jumped.  
“I’ve got another one,” Ray panted, carrying Theresa May bridal-style.   
There was a small trail of blood, running from the corner of her mouth, and she was missing one of her shoes.   
“What the hell is going on out there!?!?” Justin hissed, as he laid his jacket on the ground, for Ray to place her.  
“I’m not sure,” Ray answered, instantly back out of the door again.  
Emmanuel took over, and carefully observed her condition. He noted that her lips were getting purple, and she was having trouble breathing. He gently shook her a couple of times, trying to get a response.  
“I don’t know what’s wrong with her!” Emmanuel shouted, after failing to spot any wounds.  
“Maybe she’s just in shock?” Justin suggested, still tending to the Danish prime ministers injury.  
“No wait, be quiet…” Emmanuel answered, leaning over her to listen, as gagging sounds started gushing from her dry lips.  
“What the…” Justin whispered, as the gagging got more violent, and her body started spasming.   
Her eyes shot open, and her chest convulsed aggressively, as she choked. Emmanuel slipped a hand under the back of her head, in order to avoid bruising, or even a concussion.   
“Is she…” Justin mumbled, as he observed her coughing.  
Thick dark blood sprayed from her throat, hitting Emmanuel’s white shirt and part of his neck.  
“Wait…” Emmanuel mumbled, realizing the severity of the situation. “She’s broken at least one or two ribs, which has punctured her lung.”  
“How do you know that? And what do we do?” Justin asked.  
Emmanuel pulled her upwards, and placed her beside the Danish PM against the wall.   
“There… she needs medical attention. Until then, this’ll let her avoid choking on her own blood.  
Justin gulped, as he became even more curious as to what was on the other side of the door.   
“What is happening out there?”   
“The guards are shooting at each other… they just started shooting at everyone…” the Danish Pm answered, with a terrified expression. “The glass shattered… when they hit the dome.”  
He ran his fingers over the laceration on his forehead, making it obvious as to how he got injured.  
“Shit…” Justin sighed. “We need to get out of here. Where the fuck is Ray?”  
“He should’ve been back by now. Stay here, I’ll go find him,” Emmanuel said, as he got up.  
“Are you crazy?!? You can’t go out there!” Justin hissed.  
“Too late,” Emmanuel answered, slipping out of the door.  
Justin instinctively tried following him, but got sidetracked when Theresa coughed even more blood onto the floor. He just had to trust Emmanuel on this one.

The sound of shattering objects, and screams was even more intense once he was on the other side of the door. The dome seemed mostly chaotic, though Emmanuel didn’t get much of a chance to register his surroundings, as he was suddenly pushed up against the wall, by what appeared to be a guard.  
“وقف لا تتحرك” The guard yelled, crushing Emmanuel’s shoulder against the wall.  
“I don’t speak whatever the fuck that is!” Emmanuel answered, kicking the guard in the stomach, which apparently got him loose long enough for a bullet to strike.  
Emmanuel shrieked, as blood splattered from the side of the guards head, indicating that he was definitely not going to survive the freakishly precise bullet.  
“I told you to stay back with the others!” Ray shouted, obviously pissed that his orders were being disregarded. “How am I gonna do my job, when I can’t take my eyes off you for one fucking minute?!”  
“The British prime minister needs medical attention, and why are the guards shooting at us!?!?!” Emmanuel hissed, gesturing at the lifeless person on the ground.  
“Because,” Ray answered.

“They’re not guards.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I know it lacks some action? But I am just getting started eep!   
> I wrote both Danish and Arabic since I just thought it had a nice feel to it? I know both are correct because I speak Danish, and my Syrian friend translated the Arabic (google translate would be totally useless)
> 
> “Hjælp mig” = Help me  
> “وقف لا تتحرك” = Don’t move


	19. Pull The Trigger

“They’re not guards.”

“What’re you talking about!?” Emmanuel yelled. “Look at him! That’s a guards uniform!”   
Ray kneeled beside the dead body, and pulled out the gun from the holster. He wiped it off in the bottom of his shirt, and handed it to Emmanuel, grip first.  
“Take this, and go back to the others,” Ray said, searching the body for more ammunition. “Do not use it unless it’s absolutely necessary. Do not let it out of your sight, and never point it at yourself, nor anyone else, unless you intend to shoot. It’s a semi-automatic handgun, so you should be able to manage it.”  
Emmanuel merely stared at the gun, as if he was waiting for Ray to tell him it was just a joke.  
“I don’t know what to do with that!” He yelled, frantically waving his arms around.  
“Just pull back the slide to load, and you know the rest,” Ray sighed, dangling the weapon, for Emmanuel to take.  
“I don’t even know how to aim!”   
“Look, take it and keep it close just in case,” Ray answered, as Emmanuel finally accepted it. “You’ll be fine. Take this too.”   
He pointed a holstered knife, grip first, as he had with the gun.  
“What…?” Emmanuel mumbled, hesitantly taking the knife.  
“It’s an M7 Bayonet,” Ray pointed out. “He sure has an impeccable taste,” he added. “Had*”  
“Right… I’ll try not to stab myself then,” Emmanuel said, to which Ray nodded in response.  
“I’ll come get all of you, when it’s cleared,” Ray said, already on his way toward the sound of gunshots in the distance.   
Emmanuel heaved an uneasy sigh, before turning around.

“Where’s Ray?” Justin asked when Emmanuel returned. “Where did you get that?” He added, pointing at the gun.  
“Oh, uhhh… a guard,” Emmanuel answered, kneeling at the British prime minister’s side. “Ray will come get us, once it’s safe.”  
“You know, you can’t just take weapons from the people meant to protect us!” Justin answered, with an exaggerated scoff.  
“No it’s alright, he was already dead. And I guess it wasn’t technically a guard,” Emmanuel shrugged, and checked the prime minister’s pulse.  
“Wait, why was he dead?” Justin asked, in confusion.  
“Ray shot him,” Emmanuel answered nonchalantly. “Hold this for a second.”  
He passed the gun to Justin, who instantly jumped back.  
“No what the fuck! There’s dead guy on it!” He whined, and pushed it back towards Emmanuel with his foot.  
“Grow up already, would you,” Emmanuel said, sliding it back at Justin. “Keep an eye on it while I take care of this.”  
He removed the blood soaked cloth from the Danish PM’s forehead, and examined the cut. Blood was still seeping out, and before Emmanuel had a chance to switch the bandage; blood started spattering from the cut, completely soaking the PM’s white shirt, and part of Emmanuel’s too.  
“Shit, the arterie burst!” He hissed, and quickly covered the wound with his hands.   
“Hang on I’ll-” Justin managed to add, before the sound of heavy footsteps rang through the hallway. “It’s guards! They can help!”  
Emmanuel’s eyes widened, just before they aimed their weapons.  
“Justin, shoot!” He yelled, when the guards neared them.   
Emmanuel was unable to remove his hands, as they were the only compression available for the PM’s wound. The guards opened fire, and bullets started raining down.  
“What the hell is happening?!?” Justin shouted, over the sound of shots being fired.  
“Justin, you need to shoot! Now! Shoot!” Emmanuel shrieked, hoping it would pull a switch in Justin’s mind, and make him act.  
“I can’t! What if I hit them!?” Justin answered, with his eyes locked on the approaching guards.  
“THAT’S THE FUCKING POINT!!!” Emmanuel yelled in response. “SHOOT JUSTIN!”  
“I CAN’T!”  
“JUSTIN NOW!”  
And the guards kept shooting, bullets bouncing off the walls, crashing down the ceiling. Justin picked up the gun, hesitantly aiming it. His hands were shaking, and his whole body trembling, like it had the first time Emmanuel held him close. But it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t the same at all. Only physically could it be compared. He so desperately wanted to pull the trigger, but it was impossible.   
“Just give it to me already!”  
Justin barely got to process, before the gun was snatched from his hands, and rounds of fire were now blasting from their side of the hallway. He spun around to help Emmanuel stop the bleeding, as Theresa May was hitting the guards at every opportunity.   
“I thought she was unconscious!” Emmanuel shouted, over the sound of gunshots.   
“Good thing she wasn’t!” Justin answered, ripping off a layer of fabric from his shirt.  
Emmanuel was clutching the wound, blood running down his arms. He let go when Justin signaled him to, thereafter they swiftly applied the fabric and pressed it against the stream of blood. The sound of bullets suddenly stopped, and everything was silent. The British PM was standing - with her one shoe - a hand on her hip, and gun at her side. She spat at the ground, mostly blood, and turned around as she released the empty magazine. All three of them were staring at her with their jaws dropped lower than the masculinity they had just lost.   
“You… punctured lung… how...?” Justin stuttered.  
Behind them the guards were sprawled out face down, in a pool of their own blood.  
“Honey please, this is nothing compared to brexit,” Theresa scoffed, and adjusted her hair.  
“But wait, this doesn’t make sense,” Emmanuel interrupted. “They were clearly trained, there’s no way they could’ve missed us that many times. They were given quite a chance, plus we’re not moving targets, even the distance-”   
“They’re not allowed to kill us?” Justin mumbled.  
“Well they definitely aren’t trying,” Theresa concluded.  
She suddenly clutched the side of her chest, with a groan. Justin hurried to catch her as she stumbled towards the ground.

“We need to get out of here. Where the hell is Ray!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's pretty short cuz I've been busy af, plus side effects from my new medication is messing with my head oof. I've got ten days off from school because of easter, so I'll definitely be able to write more!


	20. Blood soaked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I told you I was just getting started!

“Where the hell is Ray?!”

“We need to wait. It’ll be even worse if we wander off and get ourselves into more trouble!” Emmanuel answered, scanning the hallway purely out of paranoia.  
“I really hope you’re right about this, because we’ve got two injured acting authorities,” Justin sighed, still carrying Theresa in his arms.  
And as if he’d been able to read their minds, Ray burst through the door with another security official behind him.  
“Alright, let’s go,” Emmanuel said, and got the Danish PM on his feet.  
Ray simply nodded and gestured for his colleague to lead the way. Their guns stayed raised, and the group hurried through the building, zigzagging between the broken furniture and shattered glass. They went up a few steps, exiting from a glass door onto the roof where a helicopter was waiting for them.  
“There’s only room for half of you, which means the other two will stay here until the helicopter returns,” The security official said, indicating that the remaining two would risk not getting away from the attackers at all.  
“Alright, The injured individuals should go first,” Emmanuel stated, already looking back at the unconscious Theresa, and blood soaked prime minister.  
“Very well,” the security official said, signaling for the paramedic to take over.  
Afterwards, Ray guided them back inside, to a less exposed place, where they would be waiting for the rescuers.   
“Great. How the fuck did this even happen!?” Justin hissed, leaning against the wall.  
“I honestly have no clue. It’s uncommon - if not impossible - for this many world leaders to gather in one spot on such short notice it-“   
“Right, we’ve been over this. I’m asking how the hell the intruders managed to outnumber us and how they even got in!” Justin interrupted.  
“They’re not exactly intruders… we basically let them in. They were a part of security. The terror threat was merely a distraction, and so they were probably involved with setting up this summit as well.”  
“But then why are they purposely letting us get away?!” Justin asked.  
“You mean back in the hallway…” Emmanuel answered. “They’re not killing us right away. We’re not worth anything to them if we’re dead.”  
Ray nodded in agreement. “They’re taking you hostage, and then they’ll evaluate whether the information you carry is useful to them. If so; they’ll torture you if necessary to obtain it.”  
“Thanks, I feel so reassured now!” Justin answered sarcastically. “And if we have nothing of value, they’ll just kill us right away!”  
Emmanuel sighed, while Ray was standing stone faced, clearly not in the mood for sarcasm.   
“Look, we’ll be fine. We just need to stay patient and wait for the helicopter to return…’ Emmanuel said, giving Justin a comforting look.  
“Who’s still inside?” Justin asked, wondering how it could be as quiet as it undeniably was.  
“I can’t say for sure,” Ray answered. “But whoever hasn’t made it out yet… well they’re either hiding or…” He teased, in response to Justin’s excessive curiosity.  
“Now who’s being dramatic!?” Justin complained.  
“Stop screwing with him,” Emmanuel sighed. “Justin is a fragile, very sensitive person. If you scare him, he’ll probably start crying”  
“Oh very mature!” Justin scoffed. “Maybe I’m just trying to take this seriously, unlike you guys!”  
“Macaroni is right, you look like someone who’s about to cry,” a voice said.  
Ray who was standing guard, had his gun instantly pointed directly at Trump’s temple.  
“Remove gun, or I kill you,” Putin ordered, with the barrel of his revolver digging into the back of Ray’s skull.  
“What the fuuuu-”   
“Justin shut up,” Emmanuel hissed.  
“Alright,” Ray said calmly, raising his hands. “I’m not the enemy here.”  
“If you lay hand on my precious orange sorbet, you will be,” Putin answered, lowering his weapon.  
As Ray caught sight of the revolver in his hand, a smile crept onto his lips.  
“A Colt.45… excellent taste. You smuggled that past security?”  
“I am Vladimir Putin, don’t act so surprised,” He answered, giving Ray a condescending look. “Not that someone like you would know any better,” he scoffed.  
“Oh no, he di’int,” Justin chuckled, instantly getting slapped in the back of the head by Emmanuel.  
“Okay, just so you know-” Ray began.  
“Where did you even come from???” Emmanuel interrupted, still confused by their sudden appearance.  
“We were in the other end of the building, and it was filled with bad guys!” Trump answered. “Oh and then the terrorists showed up.”  
“Right… how did you escape?” Justin asked, in confusion.  
“Mikhaïl was very helpful!” Donald answered, adjusting his hair, from where Ray had been pointing his gun.  
“Who’s Mikhaïl?” Emmanuel asked.  
Putin pointed at the space behind them, and Justin jumped as he noticed the pale man twice his size standing behind them.  
“Who the fuck-”  
“Justin please, language!” Emmanuel scholded.  
“Fine! Whom the fuck-”   
“That’s not what I meant…” Emmanuel sighed.  
“Look, this is ridiculous!” Ray started. “Just shut up or we’ll be disc-”   
A bullet struck just next to Justin’s face, cracking the wall, and shattering what peace was left. And more shots soon followed, though none of them dangerously close. Almost as a warning, in an attempt to make them surrender.  
“Too late,” Putin sighed, and spun around, pulling the trigger of his revolver, and hitting a guard right up his jaw.  
Bone fragments flew in every direction, leaving bloody traces wherever they landed.  
“Not again…” Emmanuel groaned, pulling the knife out of its holster, earning a look of surprise from Justin.  
“When did you even-”  
“GET DOWN!” Emmanuel interrupted, pushing Justin to the ground, before a stream of bullets dug into the - already damaged - wall.   
He felt the force of the sharp sound, piercing his inner ear. Emmanuel simply stared at the debris still leaking from the wall, in utter disbelief.  
“Oh shit…” Donald mumbled, inching closer to Putin who remained completely calm and collected.  
Ray turned to the source of the bullets, but before he could react; multiple guards surged towards them from every corner. The amount of bullets filling the air, was overwhelming. Even moving an inch could be fatal.  
“This is not good…” Justin mumbled, unaware that the shots were all that could be heard, rendering his words useless.  
Mikhaïl pulled two guns out from his belt, and started shooting in whichever direction was the most cluttered with enemies; hitting multiple guards at once. Emmanuel had no intention of using the dagger he was holding onto so tightly his knuckles were turning white. However if it became necessary, he certainly wouldn’t hesitate. If anything, he was mostly worrying about Justin who in that moment was defenseless.   
“You need to get out of here!” Ray hissed, through clenched teeth, as bullets were raining down over them, like heavy drops of water.  
Emmanuel instinctively grabbed Justin’s wrist, and yanked him from the floor, to his feet. Putin shielded Donald with his body, and dragged him towards the nearest hallway, while Mikhaïl and Ray continued taking down enemies at a surprising pace. Just as it seemed the guards were losing their dominance, and were about to retreat, due to their loss of men; Mikhaïl dropped both his guns, as a fatal dose of bullets penetrated his skull, from every possible angle. Just from the force of the shots, the large man tilted backwards and hit the ground with a final thud, knocking every ounce of composure out of the group. If they had any hope of escaping, it was sure to be gone now.  
“That’s the third Mikhaïl this year…” Putin sighed, and gave the dead body a final glance, before turning to the hallway and taking Donald with him.   
Justin blinked a few times, his mouth open wide in sheer panic. There really wasn’t a reason to stay and be outnumbered.  
“Go!” Ray ordered, and turned back at the guards, who were getting even closer.  
Emmanuel instantly spun around, following Putin, while still holding onto Justin. He didn’t bother to look back, purely because he had to trust Ray.   
“STOP!” Justin burst out, when he spotted a guard leaping towards Donald, from the side of the hallway they were supposed to escape through.  
However it was too late, and Donald was being dragged away when the guard managed to get a hold of his long tie. The enemies were growing in numbers, and all five of them were out of ammunition; except of course Emmanuel who still had the dagger in his hand.   
“Justin!” He shrieked, when a guard rose the grip of his rifle, striking the back of Justin’s head, and instantly knocked him out. He collapsed, with a complete loss of consciousness, leaving nothing but air between Emmanuel and the guard who seemed eager to make the next hit.  
Emmanuel choked, as the grim sound of the rifle once again being raised, tore through every layer of his conscience, ripping apart his temper. He barely got to think before swinging the dagger in his hand, so violently he lost control of the aim. The blade separated the vocal cord of his victim with such ease; it took less than the tenth of a single millisecond. Blood sprayed from the open wound, and the guard barely managed to choke before collapsing into the clear red liquid, still oozing from his throat. Emmanuel gasped softly, letting all oxygen that was stored in his lungs, seep out. The dagger was still trapped between his fingers and the palm of his hand. With as much blood he had already been exposed to, there was barely any difference, as fresh blood soaked him. And as if nothing had even happened, two other guards had caught up to them, taking Justin by the ankles and dragging him away. Emmanuel instantly reached out, in an attempt to regain a hold of Justin, though it was hopeless.  
“Let’s go!” Putin ordered, pulling Emmanuel towards the hallway by his collar. “We’ll come back for them.”  
Nothing he was saying could get through to Emmanuel, who was fighting to get free of the firm grasp Putin had of his shirt, to follow Justin. As he helplessly cried out, struggling to regain even the slightest sense of reason, the sight that was now imprinted in his mind sent a sharp pain to his chest. Donald being carried away, Justin dragged by his ankles with guards on each side, and Ray unconscious on the ground, blood running down the side of his cheek. Emmanuel couldn’t help but call out one last time in desperation.

“JUSTIN!!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I found out I suck at writing action and shit but hey, I gave it a shot.   
> Also I had to consult my dear weapon expert since I have no experience with guns...  
> He’s a pretty good guy, if you ignore the fact that he’s a trump supporter. Nevertheless he really helped me out with this one!


	21. Carnage

Emmanuel felt all of his confidence leave his body, as Putin dragged him away towards the hallway they were supposed to escape through together. For some reason he had stopped struggling. He gritted his teeth and reluctantly turned around, following Putin. As soon as they got to a door, seemingly far enough away; he grabbed the handle, expecting it to be open. However the door was locked, and he instinctively turned around to ask what they were supposed to do.   
“The door’s locked, we can’t ge-”  
A loud thud roamed the hallway, as the door flew open, from the force of Putin’s shoe ramming into it. He entered immediately, motioning for Emmanuel to follow.  
“Guess that works too…” Emmanuel mumbled, closing the door behind them.  
They pushed a closet in front of it to keep any intruders out, and then searched the room. It was nothing noteworthy, just a janitors office. In any case Emmanuel was in desperate need of a change of clothes, especially since the blood was drying out, sticking to his skin. He searched through every drawer, but without any luck. His gaze fell upon the closet, still blocking the wrecked door. He carefully opened it, trying not to make any noise in case they weren’t as alone as they thought. Putin was standing at the sink, with the faucet on washing blood off of his hands. after searching through the closet Emmanuel managed to find a navy blue T-shirt. It wasn’t clean, but at least there were no traces of blood, or gore for that matter. He carried it to the sink, where Putin had finished cleaning himself up; then started unbuttoning his - now stiff - bloodied shirt.   
“Here,” Putin said, handing him a bar of soap.  
Emmanuel took it, and started washing the blood off. Layers of foul red liquid, even brain matter, everything staining the metal edges of the sink, going down the drain. He desperately tried cleaning everything off, but the thick glossy layer of disgusting carnage kept remaining.  
“I take it you haven’t killed anyone before,” Putin scoffed.  
Emmanuel didn’t respond. Not that the answer wasn’t clear from the intense frown on his face, and the way he tensed up. Chunks of gore was stuck under his nails, nearly - if not completely - impossible to clean up. He let out a troubled groan, as he hit the sink, causing bloody water to splash onto the mirror.   
“Give hands to me,” Putin sighed, and walked up to the sink.  
He grabbed Emmanuel’s hand, and started cleaning it. Everything apart from the sound of water running, was quiet. Emmanuel didn’t raise his eyes, not even once, as Putin was carving out the filth form under his nails.   
“It was self defense. You and pretty boy will be fine,” Putin said, taking his other hand, once the first was clean.  
“You don’t know that…” Emmanuel said, his voice barely above a whisper.  
“I am Vladimir Putin, I know everything.”  
“You don’t know shit!” Emmanuel snapped. “If you really knew everything, you would’ve known this would happen, and you would’ve warned us, but you didn’t! Now people are dead, and I killed someone! Don’t you get that? Justin is gone! You made me leave him! This your fault, everything is your faul-”  
“You are upset,” Putin said, his expression suddenly cold, and threatening. “But you need to shut your mouth, and listen. I had suspicion, but it is not my responsibility, and neither is the safety of your little boyfriend. So you can run away, or you can get it together and help save them.”  
Emmanuel inhaled sharply, then nodded slowly. His upper body was still wet, every drop of water stinging like ice against his skin, though less bloody. He folded his arms around himself, shivering. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, it was cold.   
“Sit down,” Putin ordered, gesturing to the desk next to the sink.  
Emmanuel did as he was told, and sat down on the cold surface. Putin then took off his jacked and used it like a towel to dry Emmanuel off. He leaned forward, his lips almost grazing Emmanuel’s ear as he spoke.  
“Don’t get wrong idea, kid. I only saved you because I’m gonna use you as bait.”  
Putin’s intimidating tone dug into Emmanuel’s conscience, making him shudder. Not even a second had gone by, and already was his heart beating faster than thoughts were flooding his mind; it was quiet enough to hear every single one of those pounds inside his chest.  
“And if I get chance I will leave both you and pretty boy there to rot.”  
Impulse struck, and Emmanuel reached for the holstered knife, still attached to his belt. There was no logic, tactic, or purpose; he just launched for the shaft, and pulled it from the holster. In one swift movement he swung the knife at Putin, as if he had forgotten who the man in front of him actually was. However the knife didn’t get far, when Putin caught Emmanuel’s wrist, tightening his grip until Emmanuel was forced to let go. He smirked slightly, then scoffed.  
“Don’t act foolish. Be good boy, and everything will be fine.”  
After loosening the grip - that would definitely leave a bruise - Putin turned and continued searching the room. Emmanuel gathered his composure, then put on the shirt he had found earlier.   
“What do you want me to do?” He asked, picking up the knife, and putting it back into the holster.  
“We need Mikhaïls body.”

Fuzzy noises, and blurry memories. Cold water dripped from the messy ends of his curly hair. This certain feeling of exhaustion, and aching in every joint of his body. What happened?  
“Justin! Justin, wake up!”   
Hisses and groans filled the air as soon as reality made its way into his mind. He tried brushing the sticky wet strands of hair away from his face, but his movement was restricted somehow. Rubber laced wires were keeping him restrained, both wrists and ankles.   
“Justin wake up!”  
He tried lifting his head, but his neck was too sore. He wanted to sleep. Just doze off. Every second he stayed conscious the nausea got worse, and the stinging pain behind his eyes increased. He remained stuck in a state of paralysis, until a sudden weight of brisk liquid soaked his already drenched body. His eyes instantly shot open, as he gasped for air. His vision stayed clouded, and only the silhouette of a heavily armored figure departed from his sight. There was a foul smell. Gore, sweat, vomit and even decay. All of it intoxicating the air.

“What do we need his dead body for??! Are you crazy?” Emmanuel hissed.  
“He has my grenade,” Putin answered, pushing the locker away to clear the door.  
“What are you planning to do with it…?” Emmanuel asked, in confusion.  
“We are 2, they are 30 or so,” Putin answered. “How else are we going to kill them.”  
“Wait… you’re actually serious about this…” Emmanuel mumbled. “How would that even work???”  
“I tell you once we get grenade.” Putin said, carefully opening the door, taking a glance to see if the hallway was clear.  
“No! I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what we need a grenade for!” Emmanuel protested, and slammed the door shut, almost hitting Putin in the face.  
“I told you to be good boy.”  
“Then tell me what the hell is going to happen!” Emmanuel snapped. “You need my help too, so just tell me.”  
Putin hesitated briefly, perhaps due to his lack of confidence in Emmanuel. Even so there was probably an advantage to informing him on how he was supposed to fill the spot as bait.   
“Fine,” Putin finally answered. “Aren’t you curious as to how terrorist managed to find us? They have control over entire building, including security cameras.”  
Emmanuel’s gaze wandered back and forth between the pale threatening man in front of him, and the door promising only death.  
“So?” He answered with exhaustion over how many steps were necessary to take in order to get to the task at hand.  
“So they know where we are, hence the need for grenade,” Putin explained, quickly discovering how unsettling the first part of the sentence had been from the look on Emmanuel’s face. “There are no cameras in janitors office, but there will be in main hall.”  
Emmanuel still didn’t see the logic in playing around with a grenade, and patiently waited for Putin to explain further.  
“You lure them out by standing in view of cameras, once you hear them coming you run and I throw grenade.”  
Emmanuel could have listed thousands of reasons why the plan had no chance of resulting in anything near a positive outcome, but he didn’t have a better idea himself.  
“Fine, whatever, let’s go,” he sighed with a shrug.  
Putin nodded, then turned to the door; once again scanning the hallway for any uninvited guests. He motioned for Emmanuel to follow, as he stepped out of the cramped room. They traced their previous steps back to the place where everything had gone down. Untouched laid the still oddly intimidating body of the Russian bodyguard who was now drenched in his own blood.   
“I’ll handle this,” Putin said, stepping closer to the body until he was kneeling beside it.  
He mumbled something in Russian, looking at Mikhaïl one last time before searching his pocket. He pulled out what could only be the main ingredient of their plan.  
“Time to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know this chapter took forever to write but I passed an exam that qualifies me for my dream school! Anyway I thought this was going to be the last chapter before the epilogue but I realized I’m so far from the end that it would be the longest fucking chapter ever if I had to fit it all in there!


	22. Stupid baguette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bear with me and the endless grammatical errors

He kept hearing indistinct whispers, though he couldn’t quite figure out if they were real or merely an illusion. Somehow it didn’t really matter. He ran his tongue along his blood coated lips, and wondered when he had injured the inside of his mouth. In whichever direction his gaze fell, there was nothing but blurry movements, teasing his sight. He unconsciously let out a slight whimper which caught the attention of whoever was beside him.  
“Justin, it’s okay, but you need to be quiet.”  
He instantly recognized the voice, and made an attempt to speak. He got distracted. There were multiple voices, all screams, whimpers and sharp sounds of crying and begging. His throat was burning, and stinging as if he had swallowed sand, though no amount of coughing would ease the searing pain in his airway. He frowned at the soreness in his shoulders as he once again tried moving his wrists.  
“Ray? I can’t… I can’t see anything…” Justin said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Where’s Emmanuel?”  
“He’s not here. I think he got away,” Ray answered, sensing how disoriented Justin was.  
“Why can’t I move? Why is my hair wet?” Justin’s questions were endless, but if he had to guess, the only explanation would be that he had somehow drowned.  
“You’re tied up,” Ray answered. “We all are.”

Emmanuel kept a steady pace behind Putin, until he stopped abruptly; almost causing Emmanuel to clash into him.  
“There,” He said, and pointed at the open space in the main hall. “You need to stand there.”  
Emmanuel tilted his head, suddenly questioning the entire situation.  
“Then where are you gonna be?”  
Putin scoffed. “I’ll be on the second floor, throwing the grenade once you lure them out.”  
“But I’ll die!?” Emmanuel burst out, trying to make sense of Putin’s proposal. “You didn’t mention anything about me being hit by a grenade!”  
“You dumb baguette, I’ll give you a signal and you run,” Putin answered, rolling his eyes. “You just need to be spotted by camera, and they come running.”  
“They’re not all gonna chase after one person. What do we do about the rest of them?” Emmanuel asked. “I’m guessing that’s the only grenade you have…”  
“We deal with them later, just go be bait.”  
Emmanuel did as he was told, hesitantly stepping closer, until he was in front of the security camera. He didn’t linger for too long, in case it started looking suspicious. Putin was standing above him, on the overhead bridge, waiting for the prey.   
“What now? What now? What now?” Emmanuel repeated in panic.   
Of course he had forgotten to ask Putin where to go after luring out the homicidal lunatics. Putin dramatically slapped his forehead while Emmanuel waved his arms around frantically. He was frozen, in a lack of knowing what to do, or where to go. And that’s when he noticed. The distant sound of footsteps, clashing against the ground, causing him to finally get a move on. He sprinted across the floor, nearly tripping as he reached the stairs, deciding to make his way to the overhead bridge. The sound of firearms being raised, and footsteps approaching echoed through the hall, when Emmanuel finally made it up next to Putin.   
“Come to papa Putin,” He smirked and pulled the pin of the grenade with his teeth.  
In one swift movement, he threw the grenade towards the level beneath them.  
“Let all hell break loose.”

When Justin finally recovered his eyesight, he tried observing his surroundings, however the room was so dimly lit, it was nearly impossible.   
“Where are we?” He whispered, focusing on the very few features of Ray’s face that could be seen, in the minimal strokes of light cast by a flickering yellow lamp hanging from the ceiling in the hallway just across from the room they were being kept in.  
“I don’t know…” Ray answered. “But I think they’ll be coming back soon.”  
Before Justin could answer, a bright light dug into his vision, and several armored men entered the room. Their firearms were raised, and they spread out, as they began slapping the tied up victims as if the sudden blast of white light hadn’t woken them up. They picked up several black plastic buckets, and went around turning it upside down. Justin couldn’t figure out what they were doing at first, but it soon became clear that the sharp sounds of glass being dropped onto the floor was actually ice along with painfully cold water. When an armored guard came up to Justin, he knew what was going to happen, and didn’t waste a second clenching his muscles, jaw and shutting his eyes tightly; bracing himself for the incoming flash of pain. And just as expected, the heavy weight of ice water cut into his skin. He let out a strangled shriek, as the cold dug further into his bones, until he felt they could shatter like glass. Beside him Ray was getting the same treatment, straining against the ties as the water spilled onto his curled up figure. Once all the buckets had been emptied, the ground was overrun with stinging water and chunks of ice, all following the stream; eventually piling into the corner. Water seeping down the drain, in the tiles until the liquid slowly subsided. Justin realized that they had been repeating that action since the moment they had been dragged into that room.  
“Why are they doing this…” Justin sighed.  
He noticed that there was one body they hadn’t doused with water.   
“Who…”  
Ray looked at him, signaling him to stay quiet, and Justin soon understood that there is no reason to torture someone who isn’t alive to feel it. The body lying there peacefully, was the source of the foul smell of decay. It had probably been there for hours, leading to the swelling of dead flesh, and stench of decomposing tissue.  
But who was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A week of exams... here I come. I’ll probably write so much more since I won’t be able to sleep lol


	23. Descend

Debris cutting through the air, Blasted in every direction and even making it far enough to reach them. Emmanuel quickly threw his arms up to shield himself, however not fast enough to avoid the tiny pieces of material already digging into his flesh as soon as they hit. Although he had expected the outcome it took him several seconds to recover from the soundwave before his hearing returned. The echo of the blast was still roaring throughout the building, and was sure to draw attention towards them. Emmanuel almost didn’t realize how the ground beneath his feet was shifting and cracking, until the tiles under him ruptured and moved like a wave. He felt a painfully tight grip around his wrist, pulling at the nerves in his arm, and dragging him along. They almost descended down into the dust, along with the bridge collapsing underneath them. Fortunately Putin seemed to be more accustomed to the situation, and managed to pull Emmanuel along with him, as he jumped to safety.  
“That wasn’t part of the plan right…?” Emmanuel muttered, trying to compose himself, while completely covered in dust.  
“No, I totally meant for us to almost fall to our death,” Putin said sarcastically, his Russian accent flavoring his words with just enough sass, Emmanuel shuddered slightly.   
“Alright let’s go,” Putin ordered, already charging through the unstable hallway of the second floor.  
“What!?!?” Emmanuel snapped, hurriedly following his steps. “We almost died!”  
Putin didn’t respond, but merely kept walking.  
“Where are we going?” Emmanuel tried, clueless as to what the next step would be.  
“We find their hideout,” Putin answered, scanning the area, while still keeping a hasty pace.   
For all they knew; time was limited.  
“We don’t have any weapons,” Emmanuel panted, as they continued searching for a viable route to the floor beneath them. “How are we supposed to defend ourselves?”  
“You still have knife,” Putin corrected, examining the staircase, before motioning at Emmanuel to follow him.  
“I do but-”   
“Good, then let’s split up,” Putin interrupted, once they were at the end of the stairs. “It will be quicker.”  
“No! Last time we did that, we almost got killed!”   
Putin rolled his eyes, and ignored Emmanuel’s objection. “They are on this floor, so let’s split up, it is much faster.”  
“How do you know they’ll be here and not on the second floor?” Emmanuel asked, crossing his arms.   
“They came from first floor, so that is place they’re hiding.”  
Emmanuel didn’t like the idea of splitting up, but he had to admit it would be significantly faster.   
“Fine, but you don’t have a weapon…”  
“I don’t need weapon,” Putin scoffed. “Go left, I go right.”  
Emmanuel did as he was told, awkwardly pulling the knife from his belt. 

A loud crash, or what appeared to be an explosion; echoed through the entire room. Justin instantly curled up, in an effort to shield himself. If it wasn’t because of the armed men, the hostages would’ve been attempting to communicate with each other. The ceiling was vibrating, and dust ran like water above them. The armored men started yelling in a foreign language, until most of them had hurried away.  
Perhaps this was the time to gather information.  
“What do they want?” Justin asked, as discreetly as he could manage.   
“I don’t know,” Ray answered, wincing, and struggling to change his position.  
That’s when Justin noticed how his feet had been tied together but free to move, while Ray’s were bound to the same pipe as his hands. He scanned his surroundings, quickly realizing how all security personnel was tied up more restrictively than he and others. Which meant the intruders clearly had information about the hostages, and specific targets.   
“Are you okay?” Justin asked quietly.  
“It’s fine,” Ray answered, sighing for longer than perhaps needed.  
When Justin moved his focus back to the body on the floor, it suddenly seemed more familiar. Overweight, and wearing a suit. It could be the the light, but his skin seemed slightly orange.  
“Oh fuck…”   
“What,” Ray asked, his breath still elevated from the struggle against the ties.  
“Is that… Donald?” Justin sighed, not sure how to react.  
“NO COLLUSION!?!?!” A familiar voice burst out.  
“Quiet down!” Ray shushed, directly at the space next to Justin.  
“Is my hair okay?!” Donald asked, frantically wiggling around.  
“Oh thank god,” Justin sighed, wondering why he had jumped to conclusions.  
If the body really belonged to Donald, it would’ve been fresh, while the body in front of him had clearly been there since long before they’d gotten there.   
“Then who…” he mumbled.  
“It’s a UN official,” Ray started. “He died before the shooting began. At least that’s what the process of decay is suggesting.”  
Justin didn’t know wether or not to be relieved. Whoever the man was, Donald - fine people on both sides - Trump probably deserved to die more than he did.  
“Why isn’t there anyone trying to save us? We’re on an island… not under the sea…”  
“The people in this room… you really don’t get it do you?” Ray scoffed. “If anyone even knew what was going on, they still wouldn’t dare getting near us. It’s too risky…”  
Justin merely sighed, it didn’t seem like there was a bright end to this.

Emmanuel leaned against the wall, tilting his head in order to look down the hallway. He’d managed to avoid running into any ‘unwanted guests’ though it seemed most enemies were headed for the mess that he and Putin had left behind. If he was fortunate enough, perhaps he wouldn’t run into anyone at all. He carefully studied his surroundings before moving forward every time. It seemed every hallway he came across was more empty and indifferent than the other. How did the building suddenly become so endless?

“It’s cold…” Justin sighed, not bothering to direct his complaint at anyone specific.  
Ray slowly turned to him, with a raised eyebrow, and an annoyed expression.  
“No shit Sherlock.”  
“I agree with Justin Timberlake. It’s cold, bigly!” Trump interrupted, seemingly bothered by the fact that he couldn’t do his usual hand gestures. “So cold folks.”  
Justin didn’t respond, but merely fiddled with his ties, as if they would magically disappear.  
“Stop doing that,” Ray sighed. “You’ll just irritate your skin.”  
“Oh no! Irritated skin?! How ever shall I manage!?” Justin said sarcastically. “I don’t give a shit about that, I just want to get out of here!”  
“If I wasn’t tied up right now, I’d slap you,” Ray exclaimed.  
“Aren’t you supposed be like so professional?” Donald asked.  
“I’ll slap you too,” Ray answered. “I’m serious.”  
Donald just pouted in response, while Justin continued fidgeting around.   
“Great,” Ray scoffed, and leaned back. “Just great.”  
Several figures stepped into the room, most likely those who had left to investigate the blast minutes earlier.  
“They look pissed, do you think they’re pissed?” Donald asked, at a careless volume.  
And as if summoned, a tall man with a semi-automatic combat shotgun strode across the floor, and Donald barely got a chance to process, before the man was right in front of him.   
“Wait!” Justin shrieked, as a knee got swung into Donald’s jaw, causing a horrifying sound of splintering bone to flood the air.   
It all went by so fast, yet in Justin’s mind it played out in slow motion. From the moment he cried out in desperation to when Donald’s limp body slumped forwards. And it seemed the man wasn’t finished with him, as he once again lifted his knee.  
“STOP!!!” Justin yelled.  
And he soon realized; he should’ve kept his mouth shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course I intend to finish this fanfic, but it's probably gonna take a while lol.   
> I know I say this a lot but I think next chapter will be the final before the epilogue, so hopefully this'll be the last wacky cliffhanger!  
> this chapter was short and kinda rushed as always but - I hope - worth the wait.


	24. Halo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader interactive! The final chapter before the epilogue!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to make this chapter "Reader interactive" so just imagine yourself in the story, or create a figure to play the role instead. I know I kinda suck at this since it's my first time writing the reader into a story, but I tried to make it as inclusive as possible.   
> I've written the reader as female by default, but you can ignore that if you want. 
> 
> H/C = Hair color (Your hair color)  
> Y/N = Your name  
> /Hijab = For anyone wearing a hijab
> 
> Have fun!

The broken heel made it difficult to walk properly, yet you refused to take them off. The ground was filled with shards of glass, and leaving behind a bloody trail of footprints would certainly be worse than what sound your navy blue stilettos managed to draw of attention. Why were you even wearing them? It would’ve been a lot more practical to slip into a pair of ballerinas, being capable of moving to your heart's content. Maybe it was because you knew you were going to be surrounded by some of the most powerful people in the world, and you just wanted to catch some of the attention. The sound of the navy heels against the tiles, and the dominance you’d felt. Was is worth it? Perhaps. But of course, now the attention you’d be catching would be completely unwanted. What made it worse; you had no idea where to go. You felt lucky to be alone, and not with the majority of your coworkers in that disgusting basement. But what now? You were soon snapped out of your trivial line of thought, as you crossed a hallway to your right, being spun by a sudden force. You barely felt anything but slight pressure against your shoulder, when you were swept off the ground, and knocked to the floor. You desperately clung to whoever you had crashed into, as both of you tumbled over the shards of glass you had been trying so hard to avoid. It barely registered in your mind that you were now on top of the person, on your knees, with your hands over the person’s shoulders, staring right into their startled teal eyes. Without hesitation you quickly pushed yourself off with a strangled shriek; wincing as you crawled onto the broken glass. You frantically pushed the H/C hair out of your face/adjusted your hijab, as you backed away slowly. And then you realized…  
“Wait! I’m not one of them!”   
“EMMANUEL MACRON??!!??” You screamed, unable to peel the smile off your face.  
He quickly shushed you, looking around in every direction in case someone had heard.  
“Oh right! Sorry!” You whispered, still smiling like an idiot, as if you’d forgotten time and place. “What are you doing here??? You need to get out right now!”  
“I know but I need to find someone first,” He answered.  
“No! You need to run! It’s not safe!” You whispered, as aggressively as your low voice would allow you. “I heard an explosion. Seriously these people are crazy!”  
Emmanuel looked as if he was about to say something, but stopped himself, as he helped you to your feet. You were going to thank him, but you then found yourself once again shrieking, as a heavily armoured man lifted his gun and aimed right at you. There were an endless list of things you wanted to do; point at him, run, scream, push Emmanuel away, reach for the broken glass under your heels. But before you could even decide, a short very familiar figure showed up behind the intruder.   
“Eep,” you gasped, as Putin wrapped his arms around the man’s neck; twisting his head till a sickening snap echoed through the hallway.   
The man fell to his knees, and then collapsed completely when Putin let go.  
“I leave you for two minutes, and you manage to almost get yourself killed again,” Putin scoffed, and stepped over the body nonchalantly.   
“I told you splitting up was a bad idea!” Emmanuel complained, resting his hands on his hips.  
“Who is girl?” Putin asked, nodding towards you.  
“Hi, I’m Y/N, you don’t know me but I know you…”   
“That is funny, every person on earth knows me. why is she here?” Putin asked, his question directed at Emmanuel, clearly ignoring your existence.   
“We ran into each other,” Emmanuel shrugged, as you raised an eyebrow at the weird alliance in front of you.  
“Right, we have to go find hideout,” Putin said, already distracted with looking out for other enemies.  
“Hold on a second,” you scoffed. “You’re not actually trying to find these maniacs right? Have you lost your goddamn mind???”  
Putin seemed to leave the task of answering to Emmanuel, who merely stuttered as he tried to come up with a reasonable explanation.   
“Look…” He started, right before you decided to cut him off.  
“Whatever, I know where they’re hiding the hostages if… that’s what you’re looking for…” You sighed, and crossed your arms. “I’ll show you, so…”  
“Wait, no you need to get to the helicopter,” Emmanuel answered.  
“The what now???” You asked, in confusion.  
“There’s a helicopter, uh, it’s probably still on the roof, so if you go there I’m sure-”  
“No!” You cut him off. “I might as well lead you there, since you clearly won’t leave without whoever you’re trying to find. And, well I know exactly where it is, and you don’t. So just let me?”  
You had no idea why you were suddenly so desperate to go back there, after just having escaped. And how did you even escape??? Well that’s a story you’d remember for some very unusual reasons. 

“STOP!!!” Justin yelled.  
And he soon realized; he should’ve kept his mouth shut.  
The man turned his head sharply, when Justin’s voice reached his ear. Ray threw himself forwards, in a desperate attempt to break free from his ties, as he knew what was about to happen, and that he would have no way of preventing it. Justin clenched his jaw, and shut his eyes tightly as he lowered his head. It seemed he knew what was coming too. The man turned to him and lifted his boot. With a low grunt, he swung the boot right into Justin’s chest, at a frightening force. Ray whimpered in response to stop himself from making the same mistake Justin had, as the man pulled back his fist, going in for a second hit. He marked Justin’s cheek with his knuckles, causing a remarkable amount of blood to spatter onto the ground. And that was enough to render Justin unconscious.  
You observed the scene from across the room, where you had been tied up like the rest of your coworkers. All of you had agreed to follow quietly when the attackers had cornered you. Of course this was before the shooting had even begun, and they appeared to be regular guards. So even though the situation seemed odd, you had followed them with a gun to your back, digging into the skin between your shoulder blades. You had been completely conscious the entire time, and because of that; you hadn’t been doused with water. Which meant your H/C hair/hijab hadn’t suffered the result of icy water messing it up. Of course, you had bigger concerns than that. Like the fact that the Canadian prime minister, and the president of the United States had just been beaten up in front of you. However, there was nothing you could do about it. So you slumped back against the pipe you were tied to, with an over exaggerated sigh. You let your chest rise and fall, taking in the smell of decay and carnage.

Justin struggled to open his eyes. It seemed that his eyelids insisted on falling back shut, every time he tried to open them. But just as it seemed he’d slip into unconsciousness again, a string of light blinded him, and he blinked repeatedly, attempting to clear his vision. And finally, he caught a glimpse of the figure in front of him.  
“Emmanuel?” He whimpered slightly, as his chest tightened and ached.  
“Justin,” Emmanuel whispered, leaning down and laying a hand on his chest.  
Justin didn’t know where he was, or what had happened. Maybe it didn’t matter. Emmanuel was there, and that was enough.   
“Are you okay? I didn’t… I didn’t-”  
“Justin I’m okay,” Emmanuel answered, brushing his fingertips against his cheek. “We’re okay. We’re safe.”  
Justin felt a kind of relief he hadn’t felt in a long time. It was everything he needed to hear. “We’re safe”  
“It’s okay,” Emmanuel whispered.   
And in that moment Justin realized that if he’d lost Emmanuel, the world would’ve ended. Because he hadn’t planned, hadn’t considered, hadn’t thought that life would go on without Emmanuel. It was a painful thought. It hurt in a way that was hard to describe. So tears started welling up in his eyes, till it stung, and he couldn’t see anything. Until they spilled. Warm against his skin, and heavy when they ran down his face. His breath became rigid, and Emmanuel kissed his forehead gently. It was peaceful, as he quietly sobbed into Emmanuel’s neck, listening to the whispers of comfort. He was going to wrap his arms around Emmanuel, but somehow his body wouldn’t obey. He struggled to even turn his head, but it was of no use. He was paralyzed. It was no longer bright, and the warmth he had felt suddenly left his body. His eyes snapped open instantly.

“Justin,” Ray whispered, as he saw the tears running down his face.   
Of course it wasn’t real, and of course Emmanuel wasn’t there. The feeling of relief and comfort had been torn away before it could even manifest. Justin was still tied to a pipe, soaking wet. The fabric of his clothes felt like pure poison, burning his skin. It was cold. Even his tears were like ice cutting into his cheeks. Perhaps he hadn’t ever thought about what would happen after losing Emmanuel. But had Emmanuel thought about moving on without him? If he died would Emmanuel feel as if the world would end too? He knew there was a good chance Emmanuel would live on. Fall in love all over. But didn’t he deserve to forget the things that stopped him from living his life? Didn’t he deserve to be held the way Justin had held him? With someone else. Or would it be easier to die with him?  
Justin turned his head, staring into Ray’s eyes. Wouldn’t dying be easier than losing Emmanuel?   
“Justin?” Ray asked quietly, looking straight into Justin’s wounded face.  
And all hell broke loose.  
He cried out until his lungs were threatening to burst, and a feeling of glass tearing up his throat made everything so much harder to take. The tears were spilling, and he struggled against the ties until they were soaked in blood. He screamed and slammed his head against the wall behind him, while the sound of his skull clashing against the rough material was resonating inside him. His ears were ringing, to the extent he didn’t register Ray calling his name. He didn’t register anything at all.   
“JUSTIN STOP!” Ray yelled repeatedly, pushing himself forwards, desperately trying to reach him.  
He kept calling out to him, but Justin was so far away in his own head, hurting himself as if his body had no value.  
“PLEASE!” Ray begged, twisting himself just to get closer.   
The pipe he was chained to suddenly bent with the chains, allowing him to get further. He managed to push far enough that he could physically intervene; far enough to feel Justin’s tears against his own cheek, and hear the strangled screams so painfully loud. He placed his head against Justin’s chest, basically forcing him to keep still. And with that, Justin slumped back against the wall, still sobbing. But so completely damaged and done, he didn’t seem any better. Ray slowly moved his head up, till their foreheads were resting against each other, and Justin was quiet enough.  
“You’re okay…” Ray whispered, as the tears and blood from Justin’s face had marked his own. “Don’t cry…”

You watched intently, scared that perhaps you’d lose your mind in the chaos, just like he had. But then you were snapped out of it, as you heard the heavy footsteps, and foreign language.   
“Shit…” You whispered, as you realized the bent pipe would lead to something far worse than what you had seen so far.  
It wasn’t fair.   
So you did something stupid.   
You stretched your wrists as far as they would go, and didn’t stop even as your skin started burning. You’d noticed earlier that your ties were thinner than they should’ve been to keep you restrained. You finally got your hands free, when the attackers surged towards the prime minister and the person leaning against him. You slammed your heel into the ground, depending so hard on it to obey the demand your muscles had ordered, and it broke. You grasped the chunk in your hand, gathering all your strength before tossing it across the room, hitting one of the men in the back of their head. You quickly returned to the position you’d been in before you’d freed yourself, just in time as they all turned in the object’s direction. Fortunately for you; they’d seated you next to the door, and it now appeared as if someone outside had thrown it. They were out faster than you could even register, and you saw the opportunity. The unguarded door, and nothing keeping you from it. The men would be far enough away for you to run off as far as your legs could carry you. So you did. You winced as your body got used to moving again, and even with only one intact heel; you ran. Along the path of broken glass, and dead bodies. Guilt devouring your insides, as you abandoned the wounded people still stuck in the basement. But you had to save yourself, because that was your only responsibility. You’d done your part, and it was time to get the hell out. And then you got tackled by none other than the president of France. 

“I can’t ask you to put yourself in danger like that…” Emmanuel sighed, as you examined the wounds you’d managed to gather just by that fall.  
“You don’t have to ask,” you scoffed. “Let’s go.”  
Emmanuel hesitated, but Putin merely followed you without question. 

“This is as far as I can go…” you said, shuddering at the thought of getting even a step closer to the stairs in front of you leading to the basement.  
“That’s okay. The helicopter should be on the roof, and they’ll take care of you…” Emmanuel said, and gave you a grateful nod.  
“I’ll tell them where to go, in case you need backup,” You answered. “Or ‘when’ you need backup…”  
And with that, you hurried towards the roof.  
Emmanuel stared at the steps leading down to the place he’d find Justin. Knowing fully well, that he couldn’t take back the moment when he’d see Justin. Even if it turned out to be the most painful of his entire life.  
“What are you waiting for, let’s go,” Putin said, and started making his way down.  
“Right…” Emmanuel sighed. “Let’s go…”

Justin felt his head pounding so roughly it made him delirious. It was still cold. But less so, since Ray was there. So close he could hear the beating of his heart. It was quiet. Quiet until-  
“Justin!?”   
He turned his head sharply, ignoring the pain caused by the sudden movement. His eyes started watering again. At the moment he saw Emmanuel in front of him, it hurt so badly. Was he going to wake up, just to learn Emmanuel had slipped through his fingers again. But the embrace he was now in felt warm and real. Emmanuel felt so warm it was painful. Painfully real.  
“Emmanuel?” He sobbed, and clung to him so tightly he made his chest ache even more. He hadn’t even noticed how his ties had been cut.  
But it was impossible to let Emmanuel go, because even if it was real, it was still fragile.  
Putin had tried waking Donald up, but he was unconscious beyond what a regular person would respond to. So Putin untied him, before moving on to untie Ray as well. Of course Ray had been chained more restrictively than both Donald and Justin. Seeing the bent pipe, Putin finished the job by kicking the pipe. It snapped instantly, making it easy for Ray to slide the chains off. The moment didn’t last long though.   
The sound of chaos approaching had become familiar to them. This was no exception. Emmanuel turned to the door and Justin jolted backwards, panic forming in his eyes. Putin quickly realized that he had no weapon. At least not anything to match a gun. So instead he chose to shield Donald - or as much of him as he could.  
“You have got to be kidding me,” Ray said through gritted teeth.   
He snatched the knife from Emmanuel’s belt, charging forwards, at the armed man in front of them. There was no hesitation, or hint of regret. He probably had no idea.   
“Ray!” Emmanuel cried out, as he watched Ray leap into everything they’d been trying to survive up until that point.   
Because as the knife dug into the target, a bullet went through his head. It didn’t take more than a second. Both of them collapsed, so quietly. As if all noise had stopped the moment they’d hit the ground. Every conscious person in the room remained silent. It was like being underwater, secluded. The only sign time hadn’t stopped, was the puddle of blood forming around Ray’s head like a halo. 

No more than a minute afterwards, a SWAT team stormed the basement- no more than a minute. 

Halo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I killed him, sue me. 
> 
> Anyway the epilogue will be the 25 chapter and therefor the last!


	25. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is what happens when you don’t sleep and instead write creepy shit ;))

Of course the attack became an international devastation, covered by every media platform, dominating every screen, day in, day out, for weeks so far. The world leaders that had been lucky enough to escape unharmed, or with minor injuries, had returned to their usual positions in government. Those that suffered extensive physical and/or psychological damage had been given the opportunity to step down temporarily in order to recover. They would then leave all authority to their second-in-command during their absence. And that’s exactly what Emmanuel and Justin had done. 

***

The wind was brisk, as expected. Because the sea has no barriers when it approaches land. It carries the bleak air through the waves, charging for shore.   
“Justin.”  
He turned on his feet, catching sight of Emmanuel leaning against the frame of the glass door. The damp wooden boards creaked beneath him.   
“You couldn’t sleep?” Emmanuel asked, as he approached with his hands in his pockets.  
“I just woke up early,” Justin answered. “Besides, it’s a nice view. It reminds me of The Fairmont Le Manoir Richelieu.”  
He smiled slightly.  
“You can barely see anything. It’s 5.30 AM” Emmanuel scoffed, hinting at the unpresent sun. “The mist covers everything.”  
“Still,” Justin smiled. “I think it’s nice.”  
“It really is a nice place,” Emmanuel agreed, looking back at the coastal cottage. “Come on.”  
Justin took his hand, and followed him back inside, as the wind stirred up.

***

“What are you looking for?” Justin asked, lying backwards in the couch with his legs dangling over the backrest, as he observed Emmanuel upside down.  
“My wallet,” Emmanuel answered, searching through a stack of papers on the coffee table.  
“Going to the store?” Justin yawned, stretching his legs in the air. “I can go with you.”  
Emmanuel pushed a couple of books to the side, grabbing the wallet from the space between two of them.   
“It’s fine I’ll be back in a minute,” He answered, walking around the couch, to get a pair of sunglasses from the kitchen counter. “You’ll be fine.”  
“I was thinking about you,” Justin scoffed. “You’re so short, what if someone steps on you?”  
“Ha ha, very funny,” Emmanuel smiled sarcastically. “Then you’ll have to come scrape me off the pavement.”  
He parted Justin’s legs, leaning in between them, and over the backrest, as he placed his hands at the sides of Justin’s waist.  
“Gladly,” Justin hummed, and pushed himself up to face Emmanuel.  
He gave Justin a quick peck on the lips, then pulled away, about to head out.  
“Not so fast,” Justin smirked, and wrapped his legs around Emmanuel’s waist before he could get up.  
He caught Emmanuel’s lips, kissing him slowly. Then moving down to his neck, under his jawline.  
“Okay I need to go,” Emmanuel chuckled, once again pulling away. “Be a good boy while I’m gone.”  
“I’m still older than you!” Justin scoffed, and stuck out his tongue, as Emmanuel left.

***

Justin felt the silky fabric between his fingers, while the red color shun like fresh blood. He sat in front of the closet, on the floor, quietly studying the tie in his hands. Emmanuel walked in, catching sight of Justin kneeling beside the bed. He sighed, and walked over, taking the tie from Justin’s grasp. He returned it to the drawer, then turned around.  
“Things won’t change just because you keep obsessing over them.”  
Justin looked at him, with a guilty expression.  
“You need to let this go,” Emmanuel whispered, stroking his hair.  
He knelt in front of him, then leaned his forehead against Justin’s.  
“I know,” Justin answered, letting the red color fade from his mind.

It was the tie he wore at the funeral

***

“Did you speak with him?” Justin asked, running his fingers through his hair, until it was soaked completely.  
“Not since we got discharged,” Emmanuel answered, passing him the soap. “Though I don’t expect Donald to call anytime soon. Putin did say his jaw got shattered. He won’t be able to talk for a long time, now that his jaw has been wired shut.”  
“Perhaps that’s for the best,” Justin chuckled.  
He let his hands wander over Emmanuel’s chest, pressing his hips against his.   
“Is that your way of asking me to take care of the thing currently poking me?”   
“Maybe…” Justin smirked, sliding his hands down to Emmanuel’s thighs.  
“We can’t do that here, it’s too slippery. You’re just gonna fall and break your pretty face.”  
“I do have a pretty face, don’t I,” Justin agreed.  
“Shut up,” Emmanuel answered, wrapping a towel around his waist. “I’m gonna make dinner. You can take care of “that” yourself in the meantime.”  
“You’re mean,” Justin whined, as Emmanuel left the room.

***

“You know, soon it’ll be too cold and you’re gonna regret having been a pussy!” Justin yelled, from the glistening water.  
“Great, and if you say pussy one more time, you’re gonna have to go to bed with blue balls tonight!” Emmanuel answered, sitting on the railing of the terrasse.  
“You say that as if I don’t do that every night!” Justin scoffed, and dove back into the water to do a handstand.  
“Show off!” Emmanuel smiled.  
“Why don’t you give it a shot?” Justin smirked. “It’s easy in water.”  
“I’ll pass!” Emmanuel declined.  
Justin dragged his feet through the water, till it was replaced by sand sticking to his skin. He made his way to the terrasse, where Emmanuel was sitting. He placed a hand on each of his hips, easily causing a shiver from Emmanuel. It seemed odd, for some reason it had been a long time since he fully got to admire the response his touch earned.  
“Get off, you’re wet,” Emmanuel hissed.  
Justin merely chuckled, and leaned his entire body against Emmanuel’s, hugging him tightly.  
“You should be too,” he hummed.  
Emmanuel sighed, but wrapped his arms around Justin’s neck, along with his legs around his waist.  
“Whatever you say.”  
Justin pressed his lips against Emmanuel’s, biting the lower lip slightly. He felt himself getting impatient, and swept Emmanuel into his grasp, charging for the water before he could protest.   
“Wait, wait, wai-”  
Justin didn’t let go, even as they hit the water. Cooling down the traces of warmth the sun had left. As they once again got their head above water, Justin burst into laughter, while Emmanuel gave him a look of “you’re gonna pay for that”.  
“You basically asked for it!” Justin laughed hysterically.  
Emmanuel splashed water on him, laughing slightly himself. 

***

“This was a stupid idea,” Justin mumbled.  
“Try to behave yourself while we’re here okay?” Emmanuel answered, giving him the side eye. “What was I supposed to say? They’ve been nice to us this whole time, and we don’t want them to get suspicious.”  
“That doesn’t mean we need to have dinner with them. You could’ve just said no!” Justin hissed, trying to keep a kind facade.  
“What’s the matter with you, isn’t this your kind of setting?” Emmanuel sighed, not bothering to look at him.  
“I’m not comfortable with this. What if they recognize us?” Justin whispered, leaning backwards in his seat.  
“I don’t see any tv or other electronic objects. I mean their phone is attached to the wall! How would they recognize us?!” Emmanuel scoffed.  
“They don’t live under a rock!” Justin answered.  
“We’re in Haiti! It’s practically the same,” Emmanuel shrugged.   
“You’re paying more attention to them than to me!” Justin whined, quickly regaining his charming smile, as the door swung open.  
Emmanuel was about to argue back, but before he could do that, a plate was placed in front of them on the table.  
“It looks great Johanna,” Emmanuel praised, with a grateful smile.  
“Thank you dear,” Johanna chuckled.  
Justin smiled as well, mostly sincere. He observed the elderly woman, wearing a bohemian dress, giving her gray hair a silvery shine.  
“Let me get Samuel,” she added, and disappeared back into the kitchen.  
“Look,” Emmanuel started. “When someone invites you to dinner, you say thank you, and enjoy the evening. Because that’s what good neighbors do.”  
“We’re only here temporarily,” Justin mumbled.  
“I don’t care,” Emmanuel answered. “Be a good boy and eat your fucking food.”  
“Look what I found!” A short elderly man cheered, as he strutted towards the table. “Cognac, strong.”  
He poured a glass for everyone, then took a seat across from them at the table. Johanna sat down next to him, and gestured at the dinner.  
“Go ahead dearies,” she smiled warmly.  
They all began eating, and just as everything seemed to go smoothly with exchanged compliments and simple chatter; the inevitable happened.  
“This is a popular spot for newlyweds,” Johanna started. “Are you two here on your honeymoon?”  
Justin nearly choked on the liquor, feeling it burn all the way into his chest. Before he could say anything, Emmanuel was already on it.  
“No, we’re just friends actually,” he answered nonchalantly. “We’re not romantically involved.”  
“Oh silly me!” Johanna gasped. “Always assuming things. Forgive me boys.”  
Samuel chuckled along with her and Emmanuel, as Justin simply smiled bitterly.  
“No worries,” Emmanuel smiled.  
He only then noticed the fifth plate, set up for an obvious fifth person.  
“Who-” he began but got interrupted by the sound of the front door.  
“Wes!” Samuel cheered, as a tall man entered the room.  
“Wes, this is Justin and Emmanuel!” Johanna chuckled, giving him a kiss on the cheek.  
Wes gave both of them a firm handshake, while smiling kindly.  
“This is our son Wes,” she added. “Did Samuel forget to tell you he was joining us for dinner?”  
“Well I am an old forgetful man,” Samuel laughed. “You don’t mind, right boys?”  
Justin suppressed a frown as Wes took a seat at the end of the table, next to Emmanuel.  
“Not at all,” he said with a tone only Emmanuel would recognize as bad-tempered.  
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Wes,” Emmanuel smiled, ignoring Justin’s hint of hostility. “So what do you do for a living?”  
“I’m a pediatrician. Have been for about 10 years now.”  
“Oh,” Emmanuel chuckled. “How old are you?”  
“44,” Wes answered, as Justin tried focusing on the conversation he was having with Samuel and Johanna.  
“You look younger,” Emmanuel said. “Though I have been wrong about such things before.”  
He was of course thinking about Ray. The first time they’d met, he had asked the same question and been surprised by the answer.   
“What about you?” Wes asked.  
They were having a more closed off conversation than probably intended, and Justin was getting pretty bothered. While Emmanuel was leaned forwards, turned away from Justin; Wes was resting his head in his hand, looking exclusively at Emmanuel.  
“I’m 41,” he answered.  
“I feel like I’ve seen you before,” Wes said. “I don’t know, it’s probably because your looks are so distinct.”  
“Is that a bad thing?” Emmanuel answered with a soft voice.  
“No,” Wes said, his voice equally gentle. “Not at all. The opposite actually.”  
They kept eye contact for perhaps a little bit too long, and Justin cleared his throat in response.  
“So,” Wes started. “How long have you guys been together?”  
Emmanuel seemed more shaken up than last time they had been asked about anything relationship related.   
“We’re not together,” Emmanuel instantly answered, not bothering to look at Justin; who scoffed as soon as Emmanuel had said it.  
“Right Justin?” He hissed, with a strained smile, as he stepped down on Justin’s toes rougher than necessary.  
“Right,” Justin agreed, biting back a whimper.  
The chatter went on, almost as if nothing had happened. Justin however continued being distracted. Wes looked a lot like himself. His hair was darker, ebony, blue eyes, freckles. He had a muscular built, and seemed only slightly shorter than Justin. Indeed handsome.  
He scoffed once again, downing the remaining cognac from his glass. Instantly getting the expression from Emmanuel saying “slow down with the alcohol”. However Emmanuel sure did seem pleased with the company.  
“Did you decide overnight or was it something you’d wanted to do for a long time?” Emmanuel asked, deeply invested in what appeared to be an intense conversation.  
“I’m not sure,” Wes answered. “Pursuing pediatrics was a tough choice, but I was simply drawn to it. I loved being a general practitioner, but I just had to get to a place I could truly revolve my life around. I’m a career person I guess.”  
“I see,” Emmanuel smiled, with a captivated expression.  
“Wouldn’t a ‘career person’ know how to choose the right career the first time?” Justin scoffed, without thinking.  
“Justin!” Emmanuel hissed, giving him a strict expression.   
“No that’s a fair point,” Wes answered, preserving a kind tone. “In my opinion you develop as a person whilst finding your infatuation. Being a ‘career person’ doesn’t necessarily mean knowing exactly what you want. It means having the desire to keep exploring until you obtain exactly what you’ve been blindly chasing.”  
Emmanuel nodded in agreement, with an impressed expression.  
“Whatever,” Justin mumbled, knowing only Emmanuel would notice.  
“I’ll go get the dessert!” Johanna excitedly announced.  
“Then I’ll fetch us another bottle of liquor!” Samuel laughed.  
They were both gone unexpectedly fast, leaving the three of them in awkward silence.  
“I’ll go see if they need anything,” Wes said, sensing the tension.  
As soon as he was out of sight, Justin slumped back in the chair, bracing himself for the inevitable.  
“What the hell Justin?!” Emmanuel snapped. “What is your problem?!?”  
“He’s flirting with you!” Justin answered.  
“You’re being paranoid. Stop assuming that everyone is gay!”  
“I don’t do that! That’s ridiculous!” Justin scoffed.  
“Just behave properly. We’re not gonna be here for much longer. It’s not that hard.”  
“Fine,” Justin sighed, still in an irritable mood.  
“Who’s ready for dessert!” Johanna cheered, returning along with both Samuel and Wes.  
As they all sat down to eat, the shallow conversation continued between Justin, Johanna and Samuel, as Emmanuel was having a genuine discussion with Wes. It had been a long time since Justin had seen him that talkative.   
“Wes, could you go get Aida?” Samuel asked.  
“Yeah sure,” Wes answered, and got up.  
“Who’s Aida?” Emmanuel asked, curiosity painting his features.  
“Our husky,” Johanna answered. “She’s outside during the day, but when it gets late we call her back in.”  
“Oh,” Emmanuel said. “I’ll go with you.”  
Wes smiled, leading him out to the patio. It had gotten dark, and the air was colder than Emmanuel had expected. How long had they been there?  
“Aida!” Wes called, then falling into a comfortable position against the railing.  
Emmanuel waited patiently, not sure how a single order would summon a dog that was completely out of sight.  
When he turned to ask Wes about it, he almost clashed foreheads with him, though Wes seemed mostly unbothered, leaning even closer.   
“Are you cold?”   
Emmanuel found himself speechless, moving his lips to provoke a response but without luck.   
Wes had a hand on each side of his hips, making it impossible to move. He leaned forwards, and Emmanuel barely had time to react, but turned his head in the last second. Wes flashed a disappointed smile, taking a step backwards.  
“So you two really are…” he sighed.  
“That’s not why-”  
“I saw the way he looked at you,” Wes answered, before he could finish the sentence.  
“What are you talking about?” Emmanuel scoffed.  
“Like you’re wearing his ring on your finger,” Wes smiled. “I just thought it was one sided…”  
Emmanuel felt all the words once again disappearing from the tip of his tongue. He wanted to apologize for some reason, however before he could say anything, he noticed Justin standing in the door.   
“How long have you been standing there?” He sighed, taking a step closer.  
“Long enough to know that I was right,” Justin answered, not letting his eyes leave Wes. “So I guess you’re not a ‘career person’. You’re just a guy who can’t keep his filthy hands to himself.”  
“Look I didn’t-” Wes started.  
“Haven’t you learned not to touch something that doesn’t belong to you?” Justin cut him off, his tone getting even sharper.  
“Justin please,” Emmanuel tried. “Stop making this more complicated than it already is.”  
“Are you sure you should be working with kids when you can’t even control yourself around someone who can fight back,” Justin continued, completely ignoring Emmanuel.   
“Okay that’s enough!” Emmanuel snapped. “Wes, please tell your parents that we had to go.”  
“Of course,” Wes answered, maintaining his composure.   
A figure appeared from the damp grass, and revealed itself to be a beautiful husky, elegantly striding across the ground.  
Emmanuel took the opportunity, and hastily dragged Justin away. He shot a final glance back at Wes, who silently petted Aida.   
He heaved a sigh of relief.  
As soon as they returned to the cottage Emmanuel slammed the door, making sure to get a point across.   
“Are you ashamed of me?” Justin asked coldly.  
“I am now!” Emmanuel snapped. “What even was that? You went too far this time. I put up with your immature shit every single day, but this is way over the line!”  
“Why would you tell them we’re just friends? You’re friend zoning me now?” Justin hissed.  
“I’m not about to jeopardize our careers!” Emmanuel answered. “I let you do whatever the fuck you want when we’re alone, so don’t start that shit!”  
“I don’t want to be your secret! I don’t want anyone thinking they can do what he did tonight.”  
“He didn’t do anything!” Emmanuel hissed. “It was a misunderstanding!”  
“You showed him more affection than you have for me since we got here!” Justin yelled.  
“You’re delusional,” Emmanuel muttered.  
“Did you want him to fuck you?” Justin asked.   
“What?!” Emmanuel exclaimed.  
“Is it because you think I’m crippled now? Because I’m dirtied? Because you don’t feel that way about me anymore?” Justin asked, not able to keep his voice from cracking slightly.  
“Why would you think that!?” Emmanuel snapped.  
“Because we haven’t fucked even once since before the attack! And now you’re all lovey dovey with a guy we don’t even know!” Justin snapped back.  
“Oh, so that’s what this is about,” Emmanuel scoffed. “You’re acting like a sexually frustrated teenager. I’m doing this for your sake! You still have bruises up and down your chest!”  
“Oh no, bruises! Why didn’t you tell me I’m dying!” Justin yelled, his voice laced with sarcasm. “You think I’m gonna break?”  
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you did,” Emmanuel said, his voice dangerously low.   
There was a brief moment of utter silence, where nothing but unsteady breaths could be heard. Until Justin pushed Emmanuel against the door, roughly and determined. He charged forwards, pinning his hands above his head as he kissed his neck, making sure to let his teeth dig into every inch of his skin.  
“I’ll make sure the neighbors know we’re more than friends,” he practically growled.  
Emmanuel threw his head backwards, taking in the sensation of Justin devouring his neck.  
“I’d like to see you try.”  
Those words were all Justin needed to hear for him to grind his hips into Emmanuel’s, and grab his thighs before lifting him. He let Emmanuel secure himself, then carried him towards the bed by sensing his way through the furniture with the tips of his fingers. When the got to the bed, he pushed Emmanuel into the sheets, instantly climbing on top of him.  
“You don’t get a safe word,” he smirked. “I won’t stop until you beg me, with tears dripping from your eyes, and you’re about to faint.”  
He flipped Emmanuel onto his stomach, pushing himself forwards in order to undo the buttons of his shirt. He basically tore it off, burying his teeth in the exposed skin, leaving stinging kisses all the way down to his lower back. Emmanuel moaned sharply, moving his body to reach Justin’s mouth whenever it left his skin.  
When he was satisfied with the marks he had left, Justin unzipped Emmanuel’s trousers, slowly brushing his fingers against the wet spot on his boxers.  
“You like it when it hurts don’t you,” Justin scoffed.  
He pulled down the boxers, still letting it cover the front, as he then spread Emmanuel’s legs painfully fast, causing the wet spot to widen. However he didn’t protest. Though whatever Emmanuel was expecting, wasn’t anything like what actually happened. He felt a warmth covering his entrance, and it even took him a few seconds before he was fully aware of what Justin was doing.  
“Wait! What the-”  
His words got turned into moans, and whimpers. It was a sensation he had never felt, causing the most obscene, and shameful noises to escape his lips. It was intense enough to make him lose control, yet so insufficient it made him desperate for something else. He bit his lip, but there was no way of preventing the moans from leaving his body. He was making sounds he’d never thought he was capable of. Sounds so lewd and embarrassing he couldn’t help a blush from spreading all the way to his ears. What Justin was doing wouldn’t be enough to make him climax from that alone, which made him so incredibly desperate to take care of the throbbing pain in his member, in order to relieve himself. Knowing Justin, he was probably doing it on purpose, with the intention of pushing Emmanuel to the edge, just so that he would lose all self control and touch himself before finishing merely 30 seconds into stimulation. At that point Emmanuel was considering what would be the least humiliating solution. And just as he was about to break, Justin pulled out.   
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Justin panted, licking his lips.  
Emmanuel shifted in the position he was in, trying to make himself more comfortable. However the sticky fabric was impossible to escape. Even worse; the way his member kept rubbing against the material, made it even harder to hold back.   
“I still won’t be able to fit, so I’ll have to use my fingers too,” Justin mumbled.  
He started off with one finger, noting that Emmanuel had become overly sensitive to any type of stimulation. His breath was heavy and his skin damp from the effort put into keeping his composure. Every response Justin got from him, was a temptation nearly impossible to describe. It made him want to be even crueler. He inserted another finger, twisting and turning, to make Emmanuel as loud as he had been while responding to his tongue. It became clear that Emmanuel was more stubborn than he let on, and Justin started getting impatient. He inserted a third finger, before Emmanuel had even gotten used to the second one.   
“Too fast,” Emmanuel whimpered, helplessly trying to jerk his hips away.  
“Really?” Justin teased. “You seem to be enjoying this an awful lot.”  
He pushed his fingers further inside, grazing a bundle of nerves, causing Emmanuel to cry out involuntarily.   
“I can’t…” he whimpered, shaking all over. “It’s too…”  
“Fast?” Justin smirked. “Then I’ll go faster.”  
He adjusted the pace, aiming for the spot he’d gotten so familiar with.   
“Wai-”   
Emmanuel didn’t get further before his body managed one last shiver. He let out a strangled moan, as he climaxed. He was so completely exhausted and worn out it was almost painful. His body was having trouble calming down, and he continued whimpering, trying to endure the last twitches of pleasure refusing to leave his body. There was a feeling of oversensitivity still roaming his entirety, when Justin placed soothing kisses onto his neck.   
“You’re shaking,” he whispered. “You just came, but you’re hard again.”  
Emmanuel quickly became aware of how excruciatingly hard he still was, whimpering in response.  
“Please…”  
Justin almost felt bad for putting him in that condition, unbearably sensitive, and helpless.  
“Is It okay if I help?” Justin asked, hoping to take care of himself as well.  
Emmanuel nodded slightly, struggling to get his breathing stable.   
“Can you move to your back?” Justin asked softly, as he ran his fingers up and down Emmanuel’s thigh in order to calm him down.   
“I can’t,” Emmanuel whimpered, still trembling.  
“Your body is exhausted, you need to lie down.”  
“I can’t,” Emmanuel repeated, this time more persistent.   
“You can’t lie down, or you can’t move?” Justin asked.   
Emmanuel didn’t respond, though his muscles continued to resist, twitching in protest.  
“Here,” Justin whispered, guiding Emmanuel’s arms around his neck, as he supported his waist.   
He placed him on his back, knowing that Emmanuel would’ve resisted this position if he could. Instead he turned his face away, covering it with his hands.  
“I know you’ll deny it… but I think you’re beautiful…” Justin whispered. “Really beautiful.”  
Emmanuel remained silent, even as Justin carefully removed his hands in order to face him. And of course Emmanuel was beautiful. Even in the darkness flooding the room, his eyes managed to flicker and glow.   
“Just shut up and fuck me,” Emmanuel scoffed, as arrogant as ever.  
“I uh… I don’t have a condom...” Justin sighed.  
“You didn’t plan this at all did you?” Emmanuel teased. “Sleep tight Justin.”  
“Shut up!” Justin whined, though breaking into laughter along with Emmanuel. “Can I?...”  
He was at his limit as well, knowing it wouldn’t take him long to finish.   
“Oh I don’t know, can you?” Emmanuel smirked.   
He was surprisingly confident all of a sudden. Perhaps in the mood for some payback.  
“What do you want me to say?” Justin asked, sounding a bit more desperate than intended.  
“You could always beg,” Emmanuel shrugged.   
“Please tell me you’re kidding…” Justin exclaimed.  
“We could call it a night too. I feel like taking a shower actually,” Emmanuel teased, and was about to get up despite still being painfully hard.  
“Wait!” Justin whimpered, clinging onto him, with his head buried in Emmanuel’s chest.   
As much as he wanted to be in control, there was nothing he could do, as his member was twitching for attention.  
“Yes?” Emmanuel answered, stroking his dark hair.  
“Please…” Justin begged, shivering all over.  
“Please what? Tell me what you want Justin,” Emmanuel ordered.  
“Please let me come inside you…” he whimpered.  
“You may,” Emmanuel whispered.  
Justin immediately thrust into him, hissing as he did so. Emmanuel kissed his forehead, aware of the fact that it wouldn’t be easy to clean up afterwards. But there was no helping it. Ordering Justin to pull out, would be cruel, and likely impossible.   
“So be it,” he exclaimed, as Justin continued moaning and panting helplessly.

***

“I think I can reach!” Justin cheered, jumping with his arms stretched out to catch a branch from the appletree.  
Emmanuel was sitting on the grass, with a book in his lap, not bothering to look at him. When Justin finally caught the branch, heavy and filled with ruby-like apples, it slipped from his fingers, causing it to bounce. Apples were raining down on him and into the grass.   
“Dumbass!” Emmanuel yelled, assuming by the noise that something had happened.  
“Well at least I got them down!” Justin answered, sticking out his tongue. “You’re just jealous cause you’re too short to get some yourself.”  
Emmanuel smiled slightly, turning a page in his book.

Fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading/sorry you went through that
> 
> This concludes the fic, and uh if you made it this far, I truly hope you recover soon.
> 
> Constructive criticism is very much appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is always appreciated <3  
> The next chapter will probably be up in a week or so.


End file.
